


Complacency of the Learned

by Strigentine



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strigentine/pseuds/Strigentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It features the androgynous young apprentice, Calmasis, who throughout the series plays the roles of antihero and chief antagonist. S/he convinces fellow disciples to rebel against Zazzerpan's vaunted Complacency, and one by one hunts down each wizard. All twelve are killed but the Predicant Scholar himself, forcing a showdown. "<br/>"That these chosen youngsters would turn was not merely unthinkable, but something of a roundhouse to the temporal bones of the Upper Indifference's high chamber of Softskulled Prophets. "<br/>A continuation of the excerpt provided in Homestuck. It contains parts of each Rose: the seriousness and taunting nature of Alpha Rose, and the humorous foreshadowing tones of Beta Rose. (Because of this combination, parts- such as the Author's Note- might seem slightly conflicting.)<br/>The work is edited by my dear friend Eteo(.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Author's Note

COMPLACENCY OF THE LEARNED  
A Novel  
Written by Rose Lalonde

 

Author’s Note  
I congratulate whoever might be presently reading this story that I have penned, for their impeccable tastes for not only advanced writing, but also for spectacular tales. And also for somehow inexplicably acquiring my creative writing journal. I can only begin to imagine that a certain gentleman whose eyes are masked by a reflective black visage lies behind this mysterious acquisition.  
I warn you immediately to take this book, carry it to your fireplace (avoid knocking over any urns that may prove humorously disastrous) and firmly place it within the writhing flames. It is not yet finished, nor has it been perfected, and is so, not fit for human eyes just yet. I kid you not, only I am permitted to gaze upon these frightening words that I have produced. I say frightening due to matters that may or may not be due to self-consciousness, rather than story content.  
But, I don’t assume that we’re on the same page. I have no doubt that you disregarded my plea of purging the tome, and have continued upon your leisurely perusal of my fictitious novel. I was afraid that this much would be true. Before we begin, I would like to take this moment to give a brief synopsis, no, an explanation rather. I think I owe my readers, whoever you may be, this much.  
I beseech you not to read too far into the story, or the ethereal links it shares with my mind. This is simply a “little” plot which occurred to me once in a dream. I do not know what exactly provoked this literary epiphany, but I feel that it is excessively important that I keep track of it for purposes that elude me.  
To start off with, I am sure that there will be some sort of kerfuffle regarding one of the main characters of this story, Zazzerpan. I am fully aware that this is an existing character. Overbearingly so, if not inspired by the gargantuan effigy that my mother erected in our living room. Though I am under the legislative influence (much unlike my mother‘s alcoholic one) that copyright will allow me to recycle the name. In retrospect, it appears that her statue’s daunting eminence that stands tall and alone in the room, may have been just what inspired me to make that particular character be the only to survive by the end of the story. I suppose I should have labeled that as a spoiler. But on the same note, I suppose that you should have ignited the book when I told you to. Maybe now you will reconsider your actions when someone requests something of you. Maybe.  
Now on a personal note to my mother, if she happens to be the one reading this, I would like you to know another use for your cherished fermented beverages. It has come to my attention that they are exceptionally well at sustaining flames. This could be useful to you in fulfilling my previous demand. I also renounce my notions of congratulatory sarcasm and instead am silently judging you for snooping around my personal effects and taking it upon yourself to heartlessly tear through my stories with little care for my sanction. For the record I do not apologize for my comments that might be misconstrued as insults, as if you had not been prying, then you would have never known that they existed. Perhaps this will be a lesson to yourself as well about respecting others’ paraphernalia.  
The only thing that frightens me more than you perusing my personal objects, is that you will think that this story of wizards will be some sort of consent to purchase yet more imposing merchandise pertaining to them. This is not what is transpiring here. Frankly, I do not believe that I could stomach your advanced passive-aggressive antics if you actually realized that I did in fact enjoy wizards. I shudder to consider, and set the notion aside for my personal health.  
I take solace in the fact that your inebriated state will prevent you from fully comprehending any of the content of this story, or this introduction. Hopefully my entirely justified assumptions of intoxicated illiteracy are correct, lest I be subject to the cursed grounding and lecture of a hundred vodka shots. Unless however you continue your sickening passive aggressive shenanigans and for some reason support this use of freedom of speech, and commend me for it. This is precisely what I would expect from you by now. Applaud me when I expect castigation.  
Well played, mother. Confusing me before you have even made your move. You might just find this tale of chess amusing after all.  
I suppose this is the final section of the prologue, in which I would likely leave a sentimental dedication. I have opted not to do this, as I have no clue who I might consecrate this story. My friends no doubt, would never take the time to even finish this verbose introduction, and I would prefer to leave my mother out of the running.  
I devote it to myself, considering how I was the very person who managed to create it all, and if my suspicions are correct, in an abstract way of things, gave me the idea to start this trek. I do not wish to sound too overtly proud, but it seems to be the most sensible selection, while remaining within customary comportment.  
Though, in reconsideration I think I will choose to give some sort of credit. I initially was going to note my deceased cat, Jaspers, who receives something of a cameo in the story. Though I think I have found someone much more fitting of the devotion of this story. And so without further ado…

To Betty Crocker.


	2. Prologue

The mind is a very elastic thing, quite versatile and capable of withstanding much distention. If one were to take a balloon for instance and fill it with water, then they would find that it would swell exponentially larger than its initial size. But too much water could cause the rubber to break, or spew the liquid contents everywhere. This is why if a larger water balloon is desired that the material must be stretched thoroughly to allow the matured and worked-over rubber to endure the pressure better. And so similarly, if the brain is too callow and large, constant streams of knowledge surge through the linking neurons… the outcome can be disastrous.  
Of course the mere over-inflation is not the sole cause of such outcomes. The ever raging war of nature versus nurture comes into play once more. In the sudden influxes of knowledge, misleading and dangerous thoughts can penetrate an otherwise virtuous mind. A mind that craves knowledge is a beautiful thing. But at the same time it is a susceptible thing open to molding by anyone willing to offer what it so yearns for. And so another question presents itself again, pertaining to evil. The topic will not be addressed, or at least not in its entirety, at the moment. To instill some thought it must be pondered whether one is born evil or becomes evil.

A child sits upon a grassy knoll, the sun offering its every ray to the silver waves of their hair; a rare white horse among a sea of otherwise dim complexion. Facing away from the solar orb, their head was turned down, pale eyes shielded from the beating light, staring onto the pages of an old book. It might have been apparent to any third party observing this scene that the book was most certainly not an old children’s book. It in fact contained poetry that most adults of the land would never have been able to make out, much less children.  
At points the eyes would stare for a few moments in confusion over a word or phrase but the pause scarcely diminished the feat. Soon a voice interrupted the child’s intense reading and beckoned them to return for supper, but not before the last elegy was finished. The work was entitled “Conjurer‘s Cogitation.” An older work of one of history’s more infamous warlocks. The man was driven to destruction by unknown means until he was finally captured, constrained, and executed for his misdeeds. It reflected on his life and was written while he waited in incarceration. It goes as thus:  
“Voices course all through my mind,  
Even now as I observe the walls lined  
With ancient moss and binding vines.  
The phantasms shout out to me  
The desperate cries of the destined dead to be.  
These vocals have long since been  
With me even when I was a child.  
Their whisperings and maddening promises  
Attacking the congress of my consciousness  
Auguring greatness should I become an accomplice  
To something heinous and atrocious.  
I do not regret my affirmation  
In assisting these voices with their solicitation.  
For regret insinuates acknowledgement of fallacy  
And my alacrity to ameliorate myself rests justly.  
I haven’t time to be repentant over (the obstinate) that which will not change.  
Though they may call me evil, insane or strange.  
I left my life behind to pursue those nebulous dreams.  
Why then should I waste my time now lamenting those wicked schemes?  
I have never felt so vindicated,  
Despite being berated by the so-called ‘moralities of man.’  
I will push through even now, and finish my fate.  
And so I will ever look forward like no other ‘criminal’ has dared,  
For only the guilty look back over their shoulders.  
The guilty… and the scared.”


	3. (Chapter One): Child's Play

Nestled upon a cliff overlooking the small city of Syrs Gnelph rests the vaunted College of the Learned wherein the twelve most talented wizards train their disciples to learn ways to use majyyk to benefit society. Zazzerpan the Learned, the Complacency’s leader and the college’s Predicant Scholar, was in charge of the establishment. As per schedule, each professor taught their student individual lessons separately before the classes collaborated for General Application where they learned together. Each of the elder wizards had individual knowledge to impart on their pupils for their purposes in grooming successors.  
In the dungeons, for example, Bund the Laconic instilled in his student the ways to properly care for the deceased through majyykal means. He also included teachings such as how to treat wounds to avoid having to care for the deceased. In the Eastern Wing of the college, QuianZu the Auspicious explained the capabilities of majyyk in creating and enchanting clothing. Poor fashion and lack of stitching was an equally important topic for benefiting the world. In the scullery, Smarny the Voracious led lessons on the fabrication of food and potion making. So on and so forth were the lessons, but in the Grand Hall (in which they held their communal studies), Zazzerpan the Learned taught his disciple many great things. Most of which steered toward the advancement of intellect.  
The old wizard stood to an oaken lectern on a dais in front of various benches. He quoted a tome resting on the owl-modeled pedestal’s wingspan. Zazzerpan’s head bobbed with old age at varying intervals during the passage, causing the ridiculous pointed hat resting on his cranium to almost be victim to a six-or-so foot dreadful fall to the stone floors. Nevertheless, the conical cap remained mounted on his elderly crown.  
Across from him, sitting in the center of the benches was his student. The candles suspended from the ceiling cast many a glow from the child’s silvery curls. Beautiful, studious pale eyes traced the wizard’s every move, and ze marked his every word. Save for when their lids closed for a moment, batting such lovely and long eyelashes. The disciples’ clothes were not very notable, or at least not yet. Traditional mundane robes were worn by all students during their quotidian lessons. Afterwards they were free to change, though some of them did not have anything to change into, and those who did had few options. A hand rested the child’s plump cheek in its palm, elbow on the desk in front.  
“Uh…” Zazzerpan uttered in only the way an old forgetful man can while trying to make out a distant object known to him but nearly formless from aged eyes. “Calmasis, are you paying attention,” he inquired as his voice echoed in the halls.  
“Yes, Mister Zazzerpan,” the child’s voice chimed. It had the high pitch of perhaps a wind chime and all of the soothing qualities as well. Calmasis straightened up and adjusted hir ruffled dress. Hir garments were all ill-sized as ze hadn’t allowed anyone to measure hir for the fitting.  
“Ah yes, very well. Now my girl,” he called out. Calmasis only coughed in response. There was a topic which had long been debated since Calmasis’ very arrival. And that was of their actual gender.  
This was an especially taxing topic for Zazzerpan as he was renowned as the most knowledgeable sage in the land. He had never once been beaten at chess, not even by the gods, or so the stories go. Though it took all that he could to even attempt guessing at Calmasis’ gender. It was not quite incompetence as Calmasis was androgynous and fair. This is not to mention that as a sort of game, ze enjoyed to sometimes play with Zazzerpan by indicating false clues or misleading hints which might result in hir true gender. Zazzerpan had largely resolved to use whichever pronouns seemed most applicable, probably waiting for hir to slip up. This would never happen.  
“My apologies,” he replied, understanding at once the error. “Now Calmasis, according to this excerpt, what caused Rowley de Ghast to commit the vast amount of crimes he did?”  
“Because he was evil,” ze replied.  
“Well yes, that is how he is viewed in retrospect, and probably not controversial in the least considering his misdeeds, but why did he do each individual act?”  
“He made a mistake and was trying to bury it. But it was too shallow.”  
“Precisely! He had slain quite a few of the neighboring village‘s cats for some vague ritual or the other. He was conscious of the wrongness in collecting the pets‘ bodies and blood for his purposes, but that did not stop him. It is still unsure what his intentions were, though it is rumoured to be some sort of business involving immortality and demons. In the end his wife walked in on him mid-ritual on one of his numerous attempts at this, and he panicked. Rowley then proceeded to chop her into exactly thirty-six pieces which he then fed to the village as over-priced sausages.  
Strangely enough he abandoned his attempts with the cats, and proceeded to continue this business. It was quite lucrative. That is until the authorities became wise to his methods. They stormed his house, but Rowley was all too clever for that. He was prepared for their arrival and killed each of the constables. After a while without a return, the citizens became curious and went out in search of them. A handful entered his house to find him sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the bodies in a circle around him. It was too late for them to have done anything, but he’d carved runes into his body, and the officers’ as well. These were detonation runes turning himself into a bomb. Many were lost in the explosion. He is often regarded as one of the most revolting of wicked wizards in history- and the inspiration for the suicidal person-bombs noted in history at occasional political events. Fortunately they are rare.”  
“Why is that?”  
“It is difficult to conceal all of the runes for they take up a majority of the body. It is often easy to identify them before they cause any true harm.” Zazzerpan closed the book and cleared his throat. “It appears it is time for your friends to join us.”  
And so it was. Before long, the other pupils begin to fill in the other seats. A dozen of the most lovely, graceful and erudite children to ever fall under his gaze. Their mentors soon entered as well to be seated along the wall behind Zazzerpan. Calmasis smiled to the girl who sat beside hir. An old friend, Kanry. Her raven hair was misplaced among the festive colours of her attire: a red silken scarf draped along her dainty sleeveless shoulders which led to a green dress accented with the rare ruby pattern. Kanry was permitted to wear anything she wished in exchange for the robes, so long as she had created it herself. Stroking her scarf, she smiled back.  
“Hello, Calmasis.”  
“Hi Kanry,” ze returned.  
“How were your lessons,” she asked, now turning to face the teachers.  
“A tad tedious, but interesting, I guess. Yours?”  
“Mister QuianZu got ensnared by some thread. The spools were everywhere. A bother to clean up, but worth it.” She smiled slightly at the recent memory.  
“I wish he were more entertaining sometimes,” Calmasis admitted. “All he does is sit there and read that dumb book…”  
“I thought you loved books?” Kanry jerked a little. She was surprised.  
“I do, but there‘s a difference between reading a book for the fun and knowledge and being forced to listen to it.” At this she only shrugged in agreement. It wouldn’t do to talk the entire lesson away.

After classes were dismissed, the students dispersed. Calmasis and Kanry remained side by side similarly to ordinary school children. The other ten also went about their own ways to indulge in some of their varying interests. One of the students, however, was somewhere nearby, within one of the college's many halls. A small wooden stepstool supported their peer, Uric. His robes were a little disheveled and his hair was messy. Uric was inspecting one of the clocks, its face open and his nearby. Observant eyes squinted and flicked around the interior, assuring that it was operating properly. Calmasis and Kanry halted to survey his endeavor. It was brief and within moments- about one minute and seventeen seconds by his count- he had finished.  
“It looks right,” Uric muttered to himself, still somewhat dubious of the timepiece’s precision.  
“Hello Uric,” Calmasis called from a few steps away. Uric lurched just slightly at the shock and turned to greet his friends.  
“Oh hello Calmasis, you startled me.”  
“They say that those with guilty consciences are easily frightened,” Calmasis teased.  
“They do,” Uric replied in a tone that was indiscernibly between affirming and questioning the statement.  
“I read it somewhere. I do not recall where though.”  
“I believe that,” Kanry chimed in. “You‘ve nearly read all of the books in the library, Calmasis.” She chuckled a little at this.  
“I would like to think so, but I have not. I would like to eventually though.”  
“I can hardly figure out how you can find the time,” Uric placed exceptional emphasis on the word time because it was a thing he valued greatly. “To read so much between studies.” Kanry rested her bare arm around Calmasis’ shoulders.  
“I guess that‘s just a perk to being the brilliant apprentice to the great Zazzerpan the Learned. Calmasis really has an advanced grasp on majyyk.” Kanry smiled at this. Calmasis truly was quite the prodigy.  
“He is not so great,” Calmasis responded. Ze smiled all the same. “Mister Zazzerpan can be loquacious. Sometimes I get lost in my thoughts during his garrulous homilies.”  
“You can‘t do that!” Uric exclaimed more concerned than disgruntled. “If you don‘t pay attention then you‘ll receive poor marks.”  
“I pay attention,” ze explained. “It is queer. Somehow I can focus my concentration on both simultaneously. To an extent, anyway. I can still manage to gather everything necessary.” Uric could only respond to this with a simple shrugging of his shoulders.  
“I should be going then,” he said at last. “I‘ve got more work to do.”  
“Adjusting the clocks?” Kanry inquired.  
“Partly. Studies, practice, things like that.”  
“Have fun,” Calmasis called after him as he strode away.  
The two continued along their traipse of the grounds. The college was quite expansive and, though they had been recruited quite some time ago, there was still much to explore. The halls were alive with the flickering of candles and the beams of sun pervading the windows. There was of course the odd hall which was lost in the pitch. Strange and familiar voices seemed to emanate from these shadowy corridors. The words were indistinct, but they created an uneasy mood. The children always hastened their steps a little when passing by these particular areas.  
Soon enough they had encountered yet more of their friends. Two companions since their arrival, Selphentrine and Alouette. They were also walking together, telling stories and laughing. Even from a distance Calmasis and Kanry could hear their merrymaking. And from their own distance, Selphentrine could hear their footsteps. A cackling was heard from afar as someone approached.  
“Calmasis!” Selphentrine called as she ran toward the duo. Her own footsteps were accompanied by the harsh tapping of her staff on the stone floor. She wielded a staff as opposed to a wand. Selphentrine’s senses were exceptionally advanced, though her sense of equilibrium was somewhat off. This caused the lass to sometimes fall or trip through clumsiness or to generally lose her balance.  
Such was the case here as she came crashing down. Fortunately for Selphentrine, Kanry had anticipated the fall and easily seized her before she could fully collide with the floor. Alouette came trotting close behind and helped to properly erect her comrade once more.  
“Keep that up and you‘ll end up knocking all of the sense out of you,” Alouette teased. Selphentrine just laughed at this and swung the head of her staff playfully at Alouette’s head. The latter ducked out of the way, and the lack of contact and unexpected continuation of her arm’s movement caused Selphentrine to lose balance once more. She was caught by Kanry again before she could stumble onto the floor. The act was all to frequent for her to continuously distribute gratitude for assisting her. Instead Selphentrine folded her hands on the top of her staff’s gnarled head. The children had spent ages trying to identify the shape that the hook created. An eagle some said, a dragon suggested others. Selphentrine found the idea of having a cane fashioned in the image of a dragon to be a more appealing notion.  
“Would you like to try that again?” Alouette snapped.  
“No thanks,” Selphentrine replied calmly. “I‘ve learned when to stop swatting at pesky flies.” The lot broke out into laughter save for Aloutte who just rolled her eyes.  
“How were your lessons today?” Calmasis inquired.  
“Oh fascinating, simply fascinating,” Selphentrine sighed. “We continued our studies from yesterday about the punishments for utilization of unlawful wytchkkrafts.” Girgund the Stately had at one point been a chief enforcer of the Ethical Application of Majyyk before joining Zazzerpan’s Complacency. It is often said that witches are associated with women, and wizards are associated with men. This was not the case here. Wytchkkraft was the use of malevolent black majyyk. Spells often practiced by Obscenities and of course witches. A witch is classified as any person whose use of majyyk is solely for sinful or detrimental purposes. A wizard being any person whose use of majyyk is beneficial or generally benign. There is an extensive nomenclature for majyyk users. Inclusive of magicians who are largely ostracized by the entirety of the community- not excluding witches. Magicians utilize magic- one of the most horrendously fake things just barely in existence. Magicians are the butter knives of the majyykal world.  
“The same old thing,” Alouette sighed in response to the query pertaining to the nature of their lessons.  
“Maybe not for long,” Calmasis pondered aloud.  
“Why‘s that?” Alouette perked her head up in interest at this.  
“I heard Mister Zazzerpan mention that we might be going on a field trip soon. We would be traveling around to put our training to work. It will be much more entertaining than being stuck inside of the college all day, I am sure.”  
“That sounds wonderful,” Kanry exclaimed. “I‘ve always wanted to see the world. Or in the very least more of it.”  
“Imagine it,” Alouette mused. “All of the audiences waiting to hear my voice.” In a prideful manner she rested a hand on her heart. Not directly on it of course, but over the vicinity in which it was located.  
“You‘re not going to sing are-” unfortunately for Selphentrine, singing was precisely what Alouette planned on doing. A high note broke through her sentence. The trio was immobilized. The chanteuse continued to belt a wide array of warbling notes. At last there was a silence in which the spell of her voice wore off on the others. That moment was very brief for she resumed after the rest.  
“Gods, oh please have mercy on me,” she sang. “For I am but one drop from the sea. How we flow and how we wake- I beg of thee that my soul you won‘t take. Little children please do not cry. Momma‘s going to sing you a lullaby. For a clock to tell the time all of its pieces must be in line. It cannot work without every gear, please my child do not shed another tear. Rest your head and close your eyes. And listen to my haunting lullaby.” Alouette gave a sweeping flourish with the closing note.  
The students were still left somewhat caught by the spell. The three remained stilled by the song, watching the enchantress as she continued to sweep around her friends. At last Kanry, Calmasis, and Selphentrine were freed from the siren song. Selphentrine was the first to speak.  
“That was really terrible.”  
“That was improvisation,” Alouette snapped back defensively.  
“That was really terrible improvisation,” Selphentrine rephrased. Alouette did not respond back save for a swift roll of her eyes.  
“I am sure Mister Gastrell will be pleased to know that you have been practising outside of class, Alouette.”  
“Hah!” She laughed. “Not unless I was doing it as charity. Giving is better than receiving, or so he says.”  
“You do not think so?” Calmasis blinked softly, somewhat confused at this.  
“I do, but I‘d like to do something that isn‘t solely for the benefit of others. Indulge myself now and then.”  
“Oh that reminds me,” Calmasis thought. “I have to be going.”  
“Why?”  
“I have to do some studying. And there is a new book which I have been meaning to finish. Though I can never seem to find a free moment.”  
“Again? I feel like we never even talk sometimes, you just shut yourself up in your room and study all of the time.” There were no hard feelings in saying this, but Kanry admittedly felt a bit neglected by her friend’s sedulousness. Ze was quite the erudite child, but also something of a recluse.  
“My apologies that you feel that way, but I am fascinated by my current studies. At the moment I am caught within an old diary. It is supposed to hold the accounts of a sorcerer of old. I am enjoying it, perhaps we can read it together sometime, Kanry.”  
“That would be lovely,” she replied.  
“And maybe I can bring a few old hymns to give you some musical accompaniment,” Alouette commented. Calmasis and Kanry shared together an awkward laugh. The sort of laugh which one might make to acknowledge that the other has spoken but doesn’t wish to respond with anything aside from the chuckle. All the same, Calmasis bid hir goodbyes and left Kanry with Alouette and Selphentrine.

Calmasis meandered about the halls of the great establishment. While ze was anxious to return to hir lessons, ze also found the venturing of the stoned corridors an excellent way to get lost in thoughts. Save for at night, for the children rarely dared to roam the college at night. Terrifying things abounded during the twilight when the moon took its dominion on the world. Wind howled in the passageways like souls passing mournfully through. Shadows could be spotted dashing across walls, spectres with horns sprouting from their heads. Many hallways were even lost in the pitch where the majyyk sconces did not reach. This was the more alarming feature to the students. All of the passageways should be illuminated, but there persisted to be some dark spots blotting out sight. More eminent than these avoidable inky vats were the mysterious voices.  
Each student had confessed to witnessing these voices. They were the most perturbing aspects of the nightly grounds. Constant breathy whisperings pouring out from seemingly the walls themselves. No source could ever be attributed to the haunting chatter. In truth, the students could not even comprehend the words being related most of the time. The professors had been alerted to these concerns but responded similarly each time.  
There were no voices, they claimed. They could hear no voices, and it was more than likely just wind or passersby or the like.  
When in the dark, and already paranoid, the mind can play tricks which cause someone to see something that isn’t there. There were no shadows, or at least none of any worry. Possibly a tree- or perhaps one of the many surrounding Great Horned Owls were offering their guiding shade into the large castle.  
Naturally they claimed that either of these things could be one of themselves speaking or walking around. And they insisted too that the dark spots were nothing to be concerned about. And then would come the inevitable inquisitions about why the students were even out of their beds at such a time of night to be witness to these debunked oddities. Lack of sleep does not allow for healthy brain development. So the children contended with the peculiarities.  
Having contemplated a few notions, Calmasis was ready to retire to hir chamber and resume revision. Upon opening the door, the child stood in hir bedroom. It just so happened that the date was entirely irrelevant and unimportant. Though many days were very similar in that respect. A few bookshelves lined the walls, packed with novels and many other assortments of literature. Between two of the shelves was a tank on a small platform. Ze went to this first. Two lovely serpents twined about their environment within the glass walls. Gleaming white scales lined their bodies. The two snakes did not seem to get along well with each other, however. They often quarreled similarly to young siblings, an experience with which Calmasis was not acquainted. Ze could not help but sneak a soft hand into the container and give each snake a familiar pap on their smooth, cold bodies. Ze could not ask for more gorgeous familiars.  
The time for play and bonding would come later, though. The present demanded the child’s attention in studying. Books were sprawled about hir desk, but ze managed well with continuing about hir work for another evening of studying. Were ze an average child, perhaps these manual lessons would have born an even more intellectually advanced child than ze already was. But there was little that was average about hir. And so ze studied long into the night before the scheduled time came that the children were to slumber. Oh what irritation adults’ rules could be. What pains, what bores.


	4. (Chapter Two): A Lavender Kingdom

All in the Learned’s College were resting cozily on their dormancy slabs, save for the elders who either roamed the halls or gathered in a chamber to discuss random theories. The monastery seemed so calm at night without the scampering of delightful starry-eyed children. Though it may have seemed silent, such was not true. Those breathy whispers echoed throughout the halls just outside the bedroom doors of the darling sleeping pupils. And even still was there noise disrupting the serendipitous silence. The children were plagued with terrors in the darkness. Shifting shadows in their consciouses. They suffered from porphyrophobic nightmares each night since their individual arrivals to their current abode. None of them seemed to understand these shapeless horrors, but that did not slacken their effect.  
Though the day was inconsequential, this night would prove to be quite remarkable. As Calmasis entered the sanctuary of sleep, for the first time the dreams appeared manifest. Ze found hirself waking, yet remaining asleep. A sort of lucid dream, it seemed. The room which Calmasis now found hirself in was identical to the one ze’d only just left behind except for its contents were chartreuse or crimson, or even combinations of the two. The entire thing was curious, but as it was but a dream ze saw no need to be apprehensive. Instead Calmasis dashed over to the window and peered out of its frame.  
Emanating from outside was a violaceous luminescence. Far below, but not beyond the wandering sight of the child, was a luscious violet city. Marvelous structures abounded below. A perse atmosphere illuminated by heliotrope lanthorns. It appeared as though numerous attractions below were encrusted with amethysts, a lovely accentuation. Various violet buildings laced with twining indigo streets. Parks below were even ornamented with fresh lilacs and orchids which gave such a scent that Calmasis could smell, even from the elevated tower. Ze even found hirself to be wearing new pyjamas of a luxurious purple colouration. There was no sky to be seen, nothing but a vast blackness lay overhead. Surely this was consequence of the nocturnal period.  
Ze turned from this scenic spectacle to face hir room once more, or at least this other identical one. It seemed as though there were even more books than in the original one, and a new chess table with armies opposed and prepared for battle. Ze did not know who ze was expected to play this game with, but its presence was comforting all the same. Even hir snakes were in the room- in an aquarium of swirled rubies and emeralds! For a moment Calmasis pondered if perhaps this was some sort of astounding present prepared by hir guardians and ze had woken to this breathtaking boon, and though no amount of pinching would prove to awaken the child, ze quickly realised that the purple landscape would have been an impossible feat, even by a masterful illusionist (perhaps not impossible- but certainly improbable). Calmasis resolved that hir sleep had not yet broken and this was all fantasy.  
While the environment was phenomenal, the epiphany did not dishearten the child. Many other dreams, which had proved to be far stranger, presented themselves long before this one. Ze would not be deterred and decided to scout out more of the surroundings. Calmasis gazed once more into the heavenly blackness. It was inviting, but simultaneously queer. Nothing immediately worrisome, but it was a rather ominous ether and Calmasis departed from the sill directly after.  
There was a door in the room, but it too seemed somewhat portentous, so ze remained within the safe restriction of the room’s walls. As a bored child with few options will tend to do, ze attempted a few activities for stimulation whether they especially appealed to hir or not. A match of chess went without conclusion as it quickly bored hir without any sort of competitor, and of the maps ze checked they all seemed vacant and black. While exploration would have been a much more enticing endeavor, it seemed the few things left to do would be to read. Not that studies were relatively close to a chore, nor would ze choose it merely by default, but any child would find the sudden appearance of a new room to be far more alluring for the time being.  
Hir heterochromic eyes skimmed about the spines of the novels lining the bookcases. Indeed there were more books than before, innumerably more. The selection was extensive. Affluent. Now pains began to collect in both hir heart and stomach. What a conundrum Calmasis had found hirself in. What if ze should never awaken here again? Then ze would never have a chance to know what these new cherished volumes contained. On the other hand it would be a chore to juggle multiple books at once, ze already had the one waiting on the desk. And ze wasn’t exactly one who read with the speed of a large hungering feline; the chances of actually concluding any new book were slim, and should ze never return it would only fill hir with burning desire to complete it. And so it was decided, Calmasis would continue to work on hir current book.  
There it rested, upon the desk where ze had left it. A silken ribbon marking the last page ze had been examining. Even the vanilla aroma of the book was more poignant in this dream. Its pages more crisp and comforting, and the turning flip of a page… symphonic. Even comprehension and clarity came with a smoother ease- not perfect, but more leisurely than previously. With little time at all ze had made significant progress in the book, but became anxious to move about more. The door seemed more and more enthralling with every grain of fallen sand.  
Calmasis pushed the chair into the desk after standing (as any mannerly person of even low class would do) and nonchalantly crossed to the door as though trying to make hir intentions ambiguous to anyone watching. After much delay, hir hand touched the cool metallic handle. Slowly it turned… and slowly still it opened until the suspense was unbearable, and ze threw it open. Confused, Calmasis stepped out of the door and stood still. Ze found hirself in one of the passageways of the college. How confusing, hadn’t ze settled that this wasn’t the same realm? Or perhaps this was a subconscious rendering of that very concern just to throw hir off. Thinking of it as the college had actually turned the rest into that configuration.  
This exploration would surely be boring, and there were books to be finished and begun, so ze turned only to find stone wall where the door had once been. This alone was startling and saddening enough to produce a cry of shock. Calmasis ran hir hands over every stone hoping to perhaps find a hidden entrance or any sign that this hadn’t turned into a nightmare. There was no indication of disproving that assumption. All that ze could do was continue on at this point. Luckily ze was saved from the stinging pain of the floor by the green and red slippers ze was wearing. Even outside of the room’s comfort the dream continued to offer even a slice of succor.  
That comfort would not last, for as ze walked down the hall, Calmasis found that ze had reached an intersection. Paths forward, to the left, and toward the right. The passage ahead was blotted out as the other haunting pathways were in the real college. Calmasis terribly wanted to go in either direction more than that one, but could not bring hirself to move in their way. Instead ze was pulled forward, forced to continue straight ahead. Soon the child was engulfed in darkness but did not stop. Moments passed in the dark air as ze continued walking forward. The monotony of walking was relieved by a new activity. Falling. Suddenly ze had tripped over some unseen object and toppled forward. But ze was not caught by the hard floor as suspected. Instead ze just kept falling. Falling down, down, down, down with seemingly no intention of stopping. Until at last… it did.


	5. (Chapter Three): Nocturnal Escapades

Calmasis jolted upward in bed in a cold sweat with hir heart beating tremendously. So a dream it had been indeed. It didn’t require inspection to see that this room was the average one, and not the fantastic green and red coloured one of the strange purple land. Ze stood up, shocked by the sudden frosty sting, having forgotten that ze was not wearing anything on hir feet. This was swiftly rectified, and emerald slippers protected hir feet. Calmasis retraced hir steps in the dream and headed for the window. There was no purple city and the sky was blue and harboring clouds.  
The book had not changed, it remained in its previous position and the ribbon marked the old page. But still, ze could remember most of what had been read from the night before. A quick test wouldn’t hurt, so Calmasis opened the book roughly to where ze’d left off and instantly recognised the words printed there. Curious, but efficient.  
Silver-green pyjamas were exchanged for the standard black robes, and comfortable slippers for average shoes. Calmasis made hir way to breakfast with all of the other students. The spread was always copious, but never exceeding the necessary. Enough foods for a healthy meal and a slight bit more. The tables were set up like lunch tables and the children sat with whomever they wished. In front of all of this the elders had their own table, slightly elevated. Kanry and Calmasis were seated next to each other and began to engage in a colloquy.  
“I had a dream last night,” Calmasis began while taking from the centre of the table a slice of toast.  
“Oh? Was it like the normal ones?”  
“No!” Calmasis responded with great excitement. Though they made sure to speak softly so that their peers would not overhear their conversation. “I woke up in my room.”  
“I should hope so.” Kanry could only tilt her head, not fully understanding.  
“No, no. My room in a dream. It was mine… but very different. Better.”  
“In what what way?”  
“Every, I would say. There were more books and it was more comfortable.” Suddenly the visions of the purple kingdom snapped back into hir mind. “Oh, and there was this beautiful landscape outside of the window. Not like the fields from my normal pane. It was a city, I believe. It was gilded with dazzling purple.”  
“Purple?” Kanry and Calmasis had discussed the nightmares from days passed before, so the concept of purple being considered lovely in a dream seemed foreign.  
“Yes. The buildings, the streets, the lights, even the flora. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.” Kanry began to smile on seeing the joy that the vision had brought to her friend’s face.  
The discussion of the place continued until the end of breakfast and even into the brief recess that followed before classes were called into session. Classes continued thereafter with precise normality. Zazzerpan gave his daily sermon and later the students would gather once more for the collective oration presented by each professor, especially the Predicant Scholar himself.  
When the rest were entering the hall, Kanry approached her seat next to Calmasis with a certain apprehensiveness and she clasped both hands behind her back. At last she seated herself with an awkward creak from the hard boards of the seats. This reminded her that she would have to make sure to fabricate a dozen pillows or so to save her friends’ posteriors so to speak. The maladroit approach was much unlike her flowing and graceful steps which by no means eluded the hawk like notice of Calmasis.  
“What is wrong?” Ze whispered, leaning in a touch. Kanry was silent for a few moments whether steeling herself or awaiting an opportune time between the men’s talking in which to respond.  
“I made you something,” she replied with a slight waver. This prompted a slight tilt of the head from her companion; too much conversation during lessons would not suffice. Kanry produced from a tiny satchel a purple scarf. It bore a pattern of darker and lighter shades of purple. She would have wrapped it on hir herself, but the move would be too conspicuous. Instead she slid it onto hir lap and began to whisper again.  
“You seemed really infatuated with that place you saw in your dream so I thought you might like it. I had to delay a few other projects and work quickly but it‘s done. I hope you like it.”  
“I love it!” Calmasis responded in a hushed voice. Quickly ze draped it around hir neck and over hir shoulders. It was not very long but was quite comfortable all the same. Kanry smiled and released a sigh of relief. They spent a few more moments discussing what had happened in the day’s independent lessons while making sure to listen to whatever topic the elders were discussing then. Fortunately for the youthful, the men had not the best sight nor hearing which permitted the occasional conversation. Though there were other times wherein the old men would begin some preposterous argument over a trivial fact or the other such as which sort of seed was best fit to fill the birdhouses. These would often last for several moments until Zazzerpan offered his venerated thoughts. Then the dispute was settled and the lessons recommenced.  
At last the lessons ceased as well, and the pupils were delivered from the seminar. However the duo could not make more than four steps toward the door before they heard another classmate approaching with great zeal.  
“Cal! Cal! Cal! Cal! Cal!” The voice called repeatedly with some difficulty as its owner weaved between seats.  
“Calmasis,” ze corrected as ze turned to great Belrous. The girl had long ashen hair with bangs that just covered her eyes. Her skin looked oddly clammy and had perhaps a foreign tint to it, and an eerie smile always seemed to stretch her face. Belrous’ robes were much too long for her, the sleeves passed her hands and the base dragged the floor. It was by some variety of miracle that she could maneuver in it as swiftly as she did.  
“I was wondering if you two wanted to do something tonight.”  
“Like what?” Kanry folded her arms awaiting to prepare a decision.  
“At my old home- where I lived before- before coming here-” Excitement had overtaken her and she was stammering in trying to be understood. Kanry grabbed her arms and shook her lightly.  
“I understand what you mean. What about where you lived?”  
“We would have a ceremony during the lunar eclipse; my family that is. It‘s rumoured that weird things can happen on lunar eclipses.”  
“Such as what?” Calmasis inquired. This summoned only chuckles and tittering from the girl.  
“Like the dead coming to life.”  
“Necromancy?” Calmasis was taken aback and showed it physically. The practise was most commonly associated with witches. A good intentioned wizard rarely bothered spirits, for the activity did not always bring pleasant aftereffects.  
“No!” She cried defensively. “Or I don‘t think so. But that‘s not the point! Death was so preciously valued there,” Belrous swooned over the memory and her body waved a little as she spoke of it. “Or at least my family valued it. We tried to get the town to create a festival of it, but they weren‘t so eager about that. Anyway- it was said that some kind of ethereal enyrjjies loom around during the astronomical event and the dead can communicate with the living!”  
“Have you ever spoken with a corpse,” Calmasis asked, more intrigued than skeptical.  
“No. But that doesn‘t mean it‘s impossible! Maybe I just haven‘t found any garrulous stiffs. Being dead doesn‘t leave you with much energy, I‘d imagine. Oh I‘d love for them to tell me about what it‘s like!” Kanry recoiled slightly.  
“Haven‘t you ever found your interests rather… morbid?”  
“Oh no, Kanry! I find them absolutely mesmerising. My entire family consisted of undertakers. Morticians run though my blood! And embalming fluids.” Belrous couldn’t help but snicker into a sleeve about this. Calmasis shook hir head.  
“I believe we are a little sidetracked. You wanted us to join you in something tonight? Judging by this celebration you have described, you expect us to join you in visiting a cemetery?”  
“While I‘d love that, it‘d be really unwise to leave the college. Not just because the professors would rake us over the coals. It‘s more of a day of remembrance for the deceased, anyway. The spirits come to you. So I was thinking about the voices you can hear in the halls at night. And I was wondering if maybe those were spirits. During tonight‘s eclipse, they might be a little more coherent. Besides, what‘s wrong with a little fun every now and then?”  
“But I have to study tonight, and we are supposed to sleep at night. What if we get caught? We will get in trouble.”  
“Nonsense, Cal-”  
“-masis-”  
“-Cal, it‘s an eclipse. There won‘t be moonlight to help illuminate up the halls.”  
“But what of the torches?”  
“They‘re fairly sparse, and not that bright at that. They shouldn‘t prove much of an obstacle.”  
“Well who else is going to be with you?”  
“I asked Vimstrell, but he‘s a prig so he said no. And of course since he said no, Altrix said no. I asked Selphentrine, but she said that she‘d rather not without Altrix. They‘re probably going to play together, or talk like they normally do.”  
“Did you ask Alouette?”  
“I‘d rather not ask Alouette…”  
“Understood. Have you found anybody who will?”  
“Martine, Gaury, and Japeson said they would.”  
“Japeson?” Calmasis shuddered slightly.  
“Yes! He is my friend.”  
“I know, he just… disquiets me.”  
“Tosh, he‘s fine.” Calmasis stared at her for a brief moment considering the source of this reassurance. “Please, won‘t you join us?” Calmasis conceded after a few moments of contemplating and an additional chorus of “pleases.”  
“Alright… just come fetch me from my chamber, would you?” With a salute, Belrous was off. Calmasis and Kanry continued their day routinely. Conversations with each other and their scattered friends.

The following evening, just as the Sun had passed the horizon and Calmasis was able to fit some reading into hir schedule, Belrous and the others came to collect hir. With a small thump, Calmasis slipped through the door and began to sneak about with the other five. Gaury wore all leather, a vest, shorts, and moccasins. The rest of them wore their robes save for Kanry and the exception of Calmasis’ scarf. The dark clothes would also assist in their meandering.  
“Hi, Calmasis,” Gaury whispered.  
“Salutations, Gaury.”  
“Hello, Calmasis,” another voice sighed. It belonged to Japeson who stood behind the others. Black curls on the top of his head seemed to form horns. Or more humourously, ears. He spoke with a fondness that wasn’t mutual and an uneven smile.  
“Hello… Japeson… Are we prepared for our… journey?”  
“Yes. Any ideas which way we should go?” Gaury offered his own suggestion, and with nobody having a better one to provide, they accepted it as well. The group traveled through many of these corridors passing a torch every now and then. Sometimes Gaury would stop them with the suspicion that he sensed someone coming. According to him, he had been raised in the woods for a majority of his life. Instincts came more… naturally to him. Though this did not mean that they came without fault.  
Boredom began to sneak up on the children, as it is of course prone to do. They began to sate this through conversation. They would share stories, discuss the happenings in their classes, or just talk. This filled a majority of their walking. Belrous herself stopped the others when she thought she heard the voices of spirits. It was always simply the wind, however.  
“Mister Smarny is teaching me about a potion which is supposed to better the taste of vegetables when used during the early stages of growing,” Martine said during one such conversation. “It requires beetle dung, mashed bee or butterfly- depending on whichever‘s handy, a crushed seed of the vegetable, some sunkin root, and a few other ingredients I don‘t recall… all mixed together in a treated water base boiled on high. Or was sunkin root for the pesticide?”  
“You can use sunkin root for an earthy skin complexion,” Belrous offered. “Well not alone. That‘d look… odd.”  
“It‘s not even that common,” Gaury contributed. “By no means rare, but you don‘t just find bushels of it.”  
“I know, but we would always import the stuff. It was sad, actually. A corpse should have its natural beauty celebrated. But the customers would always insist that we ‘treat’ the body with makeup to ‘make it look better.’ I couldn’t disagree more, but in business it’s about serving clientele, so we had no option but to oblige.”  
The six continued walking with mild discussion for a while longer still. At last they came upon an intersection which bore one of the ominously dark halls. In the low light of that moonless night, the darkness seemed more consuming, like a vortex almost. Void nothingness stood directly before them. The group could not help but be transfixed by the sight. The merriment of venturing of course brought about callow antics. Gaury proposed a bet that none of the members would go into the depths of the hall and remain there for a number of minutes. All of the children were too frightened to accept this wager and so remained silent.  
Though the seeming voices began to whisper again. None of the others seemed to take notice of this, but the words seemed urging to Calmasis. Alluring hir to become enwrapped within the dark and accept it. These indistinct voices continued to incite hir to feel compelled to volunteer. At last these urging voices got the better of hir, and ze stood forward. The others gasped and Calmasis was already beginning to feel irresolute of this impulse decision, but ze couldn’t turn back. That would not do well for hir pride.  
“If you can stay in there for ten minutes then you can have my entire share of breakfast,” Gaury offered with the bare belief that he would be enjoying his normal share the following morning. Calmasis nodded and with a gulp, stepped into the darkness. A few steps more and ze was lost within the dark invisible to the others, and they to hir. The absolute pitch of it all already pressured hir eyes.  
Simply standing was not going to do well. Too many things which ze imagined to be lurking there could easily move around hir and get the upper hand. It would do hir better, ze decided, to take a little walk within the hall. And so Calmasis did just that.  
“I think somebody‘s nearby,” Gaury told the others.  
“What was that?” Calmasis called back through the darkness. Ze was only met with the hissing shushes of hir peers. They could not be too loud lest they be discovered. And so ze continued to walk a bit. Though things took a shocking turn not long after the recommenced walk as Calmasis tripped on something heavy on the floor. Not expecting the fall and fearing some sort of sabotage or attack, ze cried out loudly. The shout incited many calls by hir friends to see if ze was alright, but Calmasis could not reply for somewhere in another hall, someone else answered them.  
“Is someone in the halls?” One of the members of the Complacency questioned. The five outside of the hall gasped and scattered like roaches back to their rooms. Only Kanry whispered into the darkness to the fallen friend.  
“Just stay there for a few moments,” she said. “You should be fine. Good luck!”  
And so she was right. Calmasis lied on the floor in silence until any threat had passed. Ze could hear the old man yawn and blame the noise on a gale of wind and continue his patrol. Calmasis scuffled over to where ze had fallen, on hir knees and began to investigate the floor with hir hands. At last they fell upon a familiar touch. With an amount of effort, Calmasis lifted the object which had caused hir to fall: a book.  
With haste, ze folded the book in hir arms and quietly scuttled out of the frightening hall. Beams of light at last broke through the shadows. Though this illuminated environment was as dangerous as it was comforting, it would not assist in keeping hir hidden. Without stopping to examine the book (in spite of how Calmasis’ curiosity urged hir to steal just a glance), ze made hir way up the staircases and into the tower which contained hir chamber. The door closed with a cautious thump behind hir. Safety at last.  
Calmasis cleared hir desk and sat the book down with great care. The volume was thick and wore a black cover, the front seemed to have markings which vaguely resembled a face. It appeared to be quite seasoned, and undoubtedly peculiar. All of the pages were empty, and the aroma which wafted from the mature leaves was earthy.  
The vacant faces of the sheets puzzled Calmasis, and ze pondered if perhaps ze should write on the pages to arouse some lingering spirit which might inhabit the tome. It suddenly struck hir how stupid of an idea this was, and ze instantly dismissed it. Absurd notions aside, the owner of it would not likely value another scrawling in their book. Even if Calmasis had found it disposed of in a hallway, politeness and respect was always a priority. Though the hour was growing late, and it would not do to stay awake for much longer. Sleep is necessary for the healthy development of the mind, after all. This aside, the downy bed resting across the room seemed particularly inviting. Calmasis could not help but to sink under the cool waves of its sheets. A warm embrace of cloth soon met by the kiss of dreams.

Much to hir relief, Calmasis awoke once more to the lavishly coloured room and not to the dark descent ze had found hirself in before. Everything appeared the same, there was still cast a purple glare on the green and red interior from the window, and none of the room appeared to have been tampered with post hir exit. Or so the first impression offered, Calmasis soon found hir eyes drawn to a large mass on a distant surface. Boldly black against a grassy field splashed with king’s blood. The tome had been transferred into this dream realm with its presence in the normal room.  
Calmasis hesitantly approached it and bapped the cover’s face with a swift finger. Ze looked over hir shoulders, perhaps hoping to find some courier who might have placed it there. It would appear that there were no other visible entities in consort with hir. Having procrastinated long enough, ze flipped the lid open which was accompanied by a dull thud. An empty page, as disappointedly suspected. But the curiosity of childhood was a much more powerful thing. And so ze delicately turned a few pages more, and suddenly the paper bore words.  
Unfortunately, they all seemed impalpable; the text was written in a hand of another language. It was more to work with than what there was before, Calmasis thought. Though they were not in any abundance, there were portions of the text which were comprehensible. One diagramme illustrated a person stepping from their window and floating above a sort of city. The location appeared… similar.  
Calmasis’ head turned toward hir own window in thought. Ze shrugged assuming that a little experimentation would not be detrimental… provided that appropriate precautions were taken. Calmasis put a foot on the window sill, an arm then reached out to grasp the ledge above it. Then followed the other foot until ze could shakily sit on the edge of the window. Hir hands held fast and tight to either side of the window to secure hir balance. Hir heart palpitated with an uneasiness and doubt sent a lump into hir throat. The idea had seemed so much easier in hir mind.  
With careful precision, Calmasis scooted slowly down to a ledge just under the windowpane. There was not a lot of room to work with so ze clung fast to the wall, inching toward an area which had a broader surface protruding under it. This is when Calmasis took a leap of faith instructed by a strange shadow book off of the protuberance.


	6. (Chapter Four): Castling

As it ever tends to do, the morning came upon the closing of night, as if two neighbours never meeting. Though the moon does have an awful tendency to loom longer in the sky, all day at times. A neighbour who turns off the lights, draws the curtains, and doesn’t answer the drummer at the door, who incidentally is short of sucrose, pretending not to be home to evade the inconvenience of communication. What a terrible companion the moon can make. Just like a group of friends who abandon another in a terrifying passageway on the approach of an authoritative figure for their own self-preservation.  
Nobody would have been able to gauge Calmasis’ irritation upon hir entering the dining hall. On hir face stood no smile nor scowl of resentment. A poker face with all of the fortitude of a bastille. Scattered students shifted uneasily on hir arrival, fearing whatever wrath was to be released on them. Calmasis took hir seat nonchalantly next to Kanry, and grabbed a buttered scone to nibble on.  
Kanry as well performed the awkward sitting dance of readjusting one’s position as if their undergarments had begun to ride up their fannies. Calmasis took a mental note of this and sniggered in hir mind.  
‘No hard feelings, friends and Japeson,’ Calmasis thought. ‘Your unsure discomfort and qualms serve all the vengeance I require and then some.’ It was all just sort of funny. Knowing a secret about them with them being none the wiser. By no means was this a sadistic approach, simply a kind of game. Yes, a game! And Calmasis held quite the penchant for games.  
“Good morning,” she tried. Calmasis remained silent save for hir gentle mastication. Kanry nervously helped herself to an extra helping of eggs and stuffed some toast in her mouth as an excuse for silence to buy her time to think. A poor choice considering she’d forgotten that she had cinnamon toast. She chased the dry clump with a swig of apple juice and a choking cough. At last she’d managed to swallow it all properly, but her mind had somehow swayed from the events of last night to trying to prevent her immediate death. Which is not to mention her unladylike display. Ah well, Calmasis had seen her at worse. Maybe this obscure form of slapstick would earn Kanry a touch of mercy from appealing to hir soft side.  
Calmasis had to look away to prevent laughing audibly and choked whatever chuckles that managed to rise with milk. Fortunately the milk did not form a geyser from hir nostrils; lest they both would have collapsed from laughter and the game would be lost.  
‘Just be honest and calm. Calmasis is understanding. You’re best friends and instincts took over.’ Would it do to mention she lost sleep over the matter? Maybe not, she decided. ‘I am very sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. I hope you’re not upset. Yes, that sounds appropriate. Very good and firm. Just like these sausages, mm, were they cooked in pepper root? No, perhaps it’s onions- No! Stay focused, Kanry!’ She then began her apology at which time she induced the loose bowel expulsion of verbiage which followed.  
“The sausages are nice, aren‘t they?”  
‘Gods dammit, Kanry.’  
Many moments more passed in awkward silence, seemingly hours while Kanry lamented her folly. Finally she mustered the ability to catch up with her thoughts and began again.  
“Calmasis, I‘m… horribly sorry. I panicked- we all panicked, adrenaline and whatnot, you know? … My sincerest apologies.” Calmasis smirked.  
“Apology accepted. I was merely jesting with you.” A sky of relief lifted off of Kanry’s Atlas shoulders.  
“Really? You had me distraught!”  
“As was I. There is no harm in a bit of deception. A joke.” The two smiled and Calmasis helped hirself to a real breakfast.

Breakfast was followed by yet another break which would then lead to individual class. The students were permitted many opportunities to mingle, study, and exercise their abilities. Commonly the students spent this time in the courtyard. Kanry sat on a bench and observed Calmasis’ prowess of pebble levitation whilst knitting away on a bit of out-of-class-work.  
Japeson approached the two, at which time Calmasis appeared to lose control of the rock and it whizzed by him, just avoiding his head. Drat. His maw was a cavern of stalactites and spires of teeth and was stretched widely with pointed tips. A cave which whispers tales of dead men who entered but never resurfaced. Acidic sulfur which wafted from its- ugh! Was that halitosis? When was the last time he brushed his teeth?  
“Hello, Calmasis,” Japeson chimed with a hint of respect.  
“Yes, Japeson?”  
“I just wanted to check on my friends.”  
“Will Belrous not miss you?”  
“She‘s seeing to the dove corpse I,” a falter, “Found.”  
“I that so?”  
“It is. She enjoys viewing the little stiffs I discover.”  
“Well you most certainly seem to come across them with astounding frequency.” At this Japeson’s smile faded slightly and he simply shrugged in response.  
“Do you plan to further purloin our time, or have you an interest on which to converse?” His smile returned.  
“I heard you were having one of your chess matches with Mister Zazzerpan tonight.”  
“Yes. They are not that rare.”  
“I just wanted to confirm it. See you later, Calmasis. Kanry.” And so he took his leave and not a moment too soon. Calmasis lost hir appetite for levitation and took a seat next to Kanry.  
“It must be something tremendous to be the personal student of Zazzerpan the Learned. Quite the position.”  
“Not really. He just talks a lot about nothing. I never knew one could speak so much and still have so little to say. I mostly just carry his effects and hand him his wand when he needs it.”  
“He doesn‘t teach you?”  
“He does, but he always manages to overkill the lesson. A wise man, but as loquacious as a brook.”  
“You seemed rather invested in the levitation you were performing earlier. A certain infatuation or something of the sort.”  
“Oh, yes. Last night I had the dream again.”  
“The lovely purple one, you mean?”  
“Yes. Except it is not always the same- like a lucid dream. I can consciously interact with the dream world. And last night… I flew.”  
“You flew?” Kanry was fascinated despite her knowledge that such a feat was not so astounding when dreaming.  
“I stepped out of the window and I did not fall. The defiance of gravity is the most miraculous feeling. It offers a freedom which only those of the aviary know.”  
“Perhaps one day I‘ll get to fly too.”  
“Everyone should at least once.”

Independent lessons came and went as with every day. Then the eleven other disciples filed into class as usual. An entirely uneventful day as ordinary as any other, marked only by the chess game. Dusk was upon the college of the complacency. Calmasis entered the room reserved for the use of chess games. A few oaken tables hosted the marble tiles and porcelain caricatures of a kingdom.  
In the front row- the pawns. Peasants, tramps, farmers and any other proletariat unfortunate enough to be used as a nearly worthless scapegoat. And so unpredictable at that. They don’t even capture pieces in the same direction they travel. Forward. Forever moving straight forward through life serving as a small and necessary, but expendable part of a larger cause. Trudging straight through life with the old trade, old ways without deviation. But what potential the pawn had in the end if it could manage. A chance to be anything it wanted. A bishop, a rook, a knight, a queen even. Or perhaps this was not the case. It is the player who decides what becomes of the pawn and so yet another cruel lash of the flattened knuckles of life and fate to the face, where they get the opportunity of potential and are granted a random title perhaps not what they wanted. Calmasis and the other students were but pawns yet, though ze was determined to rectify that.  
Then there were the rooks, the powerhouses of the carved militia. Long distances to be traveled in any of the four directions. The knights with their strategic sifting and complex formation. And the bishops, the complacency were bishops. Priests or other religious leaders appointed great power. Crooked moving and elusive side-steppers. The queen, the most emancipated piece of the lot, and the most powerful. And lastly the king who in actuality was almost as useless as the pawn but somehow more important to the game.  
Calmasis observed these things during the monotonous and monologue-enriched game. It was not unusual for hir to wander mentally and put in minimal effort to the game. Even putting in a maximum effort ze would most likely lose. Zazzerpan was notorious for never losing a game of chess, not even to the gods.  
“Good show, Calmasis,” Zazzerpan cheered in sportsmanship at the checkmate. “A valiant effort.”  
“Congratulations, sir,” ze responded in a similar sincerity. The game was sealed with a firm handshake. Zazzerpan managed to stand up and patted his rolling beard. It seemed he was the stranger to a pair of shears, his hair was as extensive as his beard and his eyebrows had all of the bushiness of a topiary emporium.  
“Come along, my child.” Calmasis obeyed and slithered behind the wizard as he lead them to one of the libraries. A presence of knowledge fell on them like a heavy veil. Captured in the hunter’s net.  
“Fetch me my crystal ball, would you?” Calmasis trotted over to a shelf where a glass sphere filled with black clouds rested. It reacted to hir touch but the clouds did not clear. Ze handed it to hir mentor. “Thank you.” Manners are important.  
A brilliant blue, nearly white light cleared the clouds. Zazzerpan held the orb to the ridges of shelves looking for something. He squinted at the spines of books and sheets of loose paper.  
“The dozen of you have spent a decent portion of your lives in these walls, though young you still be. The rest of the complacency and I have agreed it best to,” Zazzerpan blew as big a gust his aged lungs could muster to clear a rabbit of collected dead skin and debris. “To do a little traveling to show you the world, and the world you. Apply some practical majykk, see what there is to see, and sow seeds of charity to pave our path. Bother, where is it?” The teacher and his student were now lining the shelves searching each one. Calmasis followed along and allowed him to quest for whatever “it” was. The most excitement he’d likely have in ages, ze figured.  
At last it was found and it was a scroll of parchment. Zazzerpan unraveled the paper and spread it out on a desk. The crystal ball in his hand lit the face of the leaf. It was a map.  
“We‘re not very sure of the exact details yet, so it will be a while before we head out. A lot of preparations to be made, you know. Food, reading material, lesson plans, rest stops, the like. I think we shall swing by Regidom at some point- in my younger days I served as a court wizard for Queen Abeli, though she was hardly a queen at the time. How time flies, or is it more of a float? It feels like ‘twas only days ago I was learning majykk myself. Oh, what say you we visit Syrs Gnelph and see how it‘s fairing? Obstinate place, perhaps they will finally accept the practice of majykk. Unlikely. Though entirely plausible; improbable, but not impossible as the old proverb goes.”  
“Why did you want me tot accompany you in procuring the map?”  
“Just for some company. And of course to inform our star pupil of our impending trip. You might as well tell your friends as well, though I imagine the others have already made some sort of mention on it. All the same. Goodnight and swell dreams.”

Returning to hir room, ze found the door slightly ajar. The inside was intact despite this, though on the black book was a mouse with broken limbs. A small card rested under it which read  
“Dear Calmasis,  
I found this for you! Maybe you can make it dance for you when you get bored. I couldn‘t seem to get it to. Or maybe you can get Belrous to make something cool out of it for you. Enjoy it!”  
Calmasis flicked the card into hir bedside lamp and observed as the paper writhed and the words were hidden by the blackening surrounding. It curled up as if in pain or rejection, precisely like a dead spider.  
So Zazzerpan and the others would take them out for a trip. One of them could be kidnapped and it would take days for the elders to notice.  
“They cannot even see Japeson tortures small animals, even though he never does it when they are around, how are they to care for all of us on the open road,” Calmasis thought. “How is it not obvious to them what he does? How is it that they can all be so… complacent?”  
In chess, the king sees little action. He stays guarded behind forces, pleasantly unaware of surrounding threats; completely complacent. When he begins feeling discomfort in his current location, he simply castles aside from the place and continues his stillness or useless moving , much like an old man. Zazzerpan was the king of the complacency.  
Calmasis plopped the rodent in the glass tank for hir snakes to feast on. So much for your present, Japeson.


	7. (Chapter Five): Practice Dummy Memorial

This chapter is dedicated to the graphic loss of the most beloved and adored characters who wherein lose their lives in a horrific display of blunt destruction. Their sacrifices will forever be appreciated, their contribution noted, and memory revered. Condolences go out to the bereaving families. The decedents shall be missed and never forgotten. It goes without saying that this loss will go on as the single most tragic and heart-wrenching death which will come to pass in this chronicle.

At last, the moment for which even the most fastidious students pine: the weekend. A brief vacation to allow the brain to relax after days of exertion. As with the balloon, the mind cannot be relentlessly filled, it must be allowed time for rest and recover before it is prepared for yet more strenuous activity.  
The pair separated to pursue activities with other friends as a healthy relationship does. Calmasis and Uric found themselves sitting on the grass and observing Larx on the training field before chore duty. The boy was filled with energy, rage, and passion in surplus and because of his violent restlessness, he was assigned to as much work as could be spared to reduce his stamina. A task seemingly impossible. Aside from this, if he was not kept busy it would be inevitable that he would become malicious.  
Larx wove between half-walls as if emulating some sort of military maneuver. A respectable dummy of inclined repute stood in the dirt field none the wiser to hir advancing assassin. Ze stood in peaceful solitaire apart from the others of hir kind. Perhaps observing the lovely nature? Or maybe contemplating what altruist enterprise to undergo next. What a philanthropist the dummy was. With the agility of a feline, Larx pounced from his position and shot a blast at the unsuspecting mannequin causing hir to wobble slightly and become still once more. He continued this merciless onslaught on the surrounding targets. Once each had been hit, he went on to aim at boards set afar. Larx’s accuracy left something to be desired but his style permitted him to still pepper his mark with decent damage enough. Much like a reckless mobster with a machine gun.  
“A fearsome opponent, I would imagine,” Calmasis wondered aloud.  
“I was told he was highly respected in his hometown. He would‘ve made a good mercenary, if not a dangerous one.”  
“Mayhaps physically, but not majykkally. He lacks self-control horribly. Similarly with Vimstrell, but Larx just cannot focus his abilities to reach their full potential. Actually, the precise opposite of Vimstrell.”  
“Get up,” Larx huffed as he walked between them. It was time to commence the chores. The trio joined Gaury in the stables. Having formerly resided in the forests for his life, he understood how to work well with the equestrian tenants. He also harboured the ability to trap animals. But the horses were nicely corralled in their homes and his methods were more often than not lethal.  
Larx shoveled manure and forked hay with few difficulties. Calmasis was given the honour and responsibility of holding Larx’s prized shark tooth necklace which spooked the horses. A gift from a sailor uncle. The creamy curvature palely glistened in the beams of light jutting through the boards of the stalls. The string seemed to be of enforced fishing line. No likelihood of it falling off unintentionally.  
Gaury made an attempt to converse with his coworker, but Larx was of few words. He responded mostly in grunts. Sensibly, he took to the other two.  
“Have you heard about our impending journey,” Calmasis inquired.  
“I heard about it, but no details.”  
“It sounds like sightseeing mostly. Apparently it will be like a debut, our premiere. Introducing ourselves to the world and commencing our lifelong dedication of obligated service.” The concept of living one’s life solely devoted to serving others seemed a pitiful waste of a short and important life to hir.  
“I‘ve often wondered what it‘s like in the world.” Uric tried to smooth his bed-head with a hand. Each misplaced lock ricocheted back into place. His obsessive compulsions left little room for proper grooming. Buttons left mismatched and shirt untucked further proved that his personal appearance was as difficult as it was inconsequential to him. A rather fidgety and twitch individual.  
“Have you ever seen the forests?” Gaury was brushing a steed.  
“Once. Outside there was one, but I never got to see anything past the wall of bark.” He had been raised in a very wealthy and powerful household.  
“We should pass through a forest path or two, I imagine. It‘s my current assignment to ensure the horses are prepared for the trip. Must not be very short.”  
“How long do you think,” Uric gulped and had to take a moment to recompose himself. His fingers fidgeted and tapped against each other. “Do you think until we‘ll return?” Having related the concern, his eyes dashed about the room, drinking in all of the details of the walls as if he was going to be torn from the castle instantly, never to return.  
“As long as it takes,” Larx grunted. “If we‘re going out as missionairies then we‘ll stay out until we‘ve accomplished whatever it is we‘re doing. If it‘s just a pleasure venture, then sooner.” Just then a loud explosion came from where the three had just been. As well did something thump against the walls and ceilings. It was mutually known that Vimstrell had begun his training. Calmasis and Uric dashed outside, the other two not as concerned. Shrapnel had soared over to their location. As expected, all of Vimstrell’s attempts to majykkally interact with the targets had resulted in their obliteration. Rest in peace (or given their current state of being, perhaps ‘pieces’ would be more accurate), stuffed mannequin and wooden effigy. Proper action would be to alert their next of kin, a deed that the two friends thought to fulfill later. A stinging sensation just nearly came over Uric’s eyes as he imagined the stress of the moment in telling the widowed spouses of their significant others’ untimely demises. Calmasis did hir best to not contemplate the inexplicable sorrow that the children would feel, not even fully cognising the severity of the situation. How those poor offspring would go on nearly parentless as ze hirself had done at the orphanage. It took everything the two had not to break down in hysterical blubbering. Or at least it would have if they weren’t inanimate objects and the entire notion wasn’t utterly stupid.  
Larx had soon enough finished his task there and reclaimed his necklace. Sweat was beginning to plaster his orange hair to his forehead, but he was not done with his work just yet. Onward to the next destination. He lead the way to the college’s well where Martine awaited his arrival. Wasting no time Larx attached a bucket to the rope and sent the pail on its dark descent into the cold column. It emerged heavily filled with water.  
“Thank you,” Martine stated with sweetness. Without a response, he began to lug the water into the scullery.  
“You could surely manage to fetch water from the well, could you not, Martine?” Calmasis cocked hir head slightly in question of this. The task seemed simple enough and Martine was not so weak that it would prove too hefty for her.  
“Yes, but I would rather not do it. It‘s tedious. Besides, Larx enjoys labouring, doesn‘t he? I figure this way I can catch two fish on the same hook.” The lackey- er student returned to bring about three more bucketfuls to the kitchen for use in stew probably. On his last run, Martine posed a request.  
“Larx, do you think you could do the dishes for me as well since you‘ve already got the water there? I don‘t feel like it…” He was indifferent to this commission and left to clean the morning’s platter ware. Unlike Larx, Uric and Calmasis were discouraged by the errand as watching him clean plates and bowls did not come across as the most interesting way to spend an afternoon. Generally the tableware was not in any vast abundance as there was only enough to serve the food and hold the meals of a collective twenty-four people. There was one outstanding variable to this seemingly simplistic reasoning, however. And that was Martine’s mentor Smarny’s voluminous daily snacking. For one meal alone he absorbed inestimable plates worth of nourishment, accruing his corpulence. For this reason, Calmasis and Uric opted to visit Vimstrell and his company but not without a few final words from Calmasis to Martine.  
“We shall be going on a journey soon. It might be beneficial if you started being a bit more sedulous.”

Vimstrell was the eldest of the students with Larx just behind him. He was often found with either Altrix or Selphentrine and in this such case both were present. Intimidation was not rare occurrence from his mature height. It might have been difficult for one to believe he was only thirteen years of age. Selphentrine did not have the same effect despite being approximately half of a head shorter. On the other hand Altrix was the one who stood out of this group for being significantly shorter.  
“Maybe you should try to do it lighter?”  
“It‘s not so easy, Altrix.” To support his response, Vimstrell cast a spell with the absolute softest wand flicks possible only to cause a post to be torn from the ground and be propelled away.  
“That one was about a seven,” Selphentrine judged. “Poor landing, entirely atrocious, but decent form.”  
“Could we stop measuring my failures?”  
“They‘re not failures! Just unfortunate stepping stones on the road of success. And maybe if you‘d learn to be more accepting of your shortcomings then the journey would be a more enjoyable one.”  
“What are you trying to say?” Selphentrine wagged a beckoning finger to him and he obeyed by leaning his ear toward her.  
“Lighten up,” she shrieked into the auditory receptor. As the situation would warrant, he recoiled and cupped his ear.  
“Selphentrine, perhaps you should reconsider your volubility. I imagine the outcome would be devastating to you if the positions had been reversed.” Calmasis and Uric approached sans a warning from the aforementioned offender. Vimstrell erected his spine at once to greet the star pupil.  
“Good afternoon, Calmasis,” he stuttered. The poor soul was all too preoccupied with social standing. An unfortunate state.  
“Hello, Vimstrell. And Selphentrine and Altrix.” The two greeted hir and Uric. The latter took a seat next to Altrix. “I should not be long. I just wanted to inform you of the trip we shall be taking not too long from now. And perhaps ask you to spread the word as I am not the sole news deliverer of this college.“ Selphentrine quirked her head in interest.  
“Mister Zazzerpan and the Complacency intend on going on an excursion with us to see the world. He wanted me to inform you so that you would be prepared. It should not be long from now, but also not too soon.”  
“Did he say where we were going?”  
“This much is still undecided. The entire ordeal might even be improvised. It is hard to be sure with them.”  
“It sounds like fun,” Altrix thought aloud. “I would rather not leave, but if we must.”  
“There is nothing awaiting us but opportunity, so I propose we greet it with gratefulness.” Calmasis offered a reassuring smile which dissolved all too soon as ze spotted a stray Japeson on the approach. Ze asked Uric to occupy him and tell him the news while taking the opportunity to carry on hir way. Not much longer the bell rang and it was time to prepare for dinner.


	8. (Chapter Six): The Roguish Void

The realm of dreams was a quite fascinating place and an exemplary location in which to read. But ever since having flown momentarily out of the window, Calmasis’ attention was much more geared toward exploration. The streets below seemed desolate and so sparked ambivalence in hir young heart. Somehow it was the inky vacuity which drew hir with a curious passion.  
Never the dimwit, ze found a spool or so of thread in the drawers of hir desk. A marvelous strand of mingled colours matching hir room. One foot was tied in a clumsy lasso and the spool was secured so as to allow further untwining but so that it would not follow after its end had been reached. Now tethered to hir room, Calmasis floated gently outside so as to be cognizant to its tug should it stop. With the grace and speed of a butterfly the child ascended further from the place. Literally nothing occupied this space.  
Persistence provoked hir to carry on, fortunately the string’s length permitted inestimable distance to be traversed. Looking back, Calmasis noted the shine of the string. The violet light from far below lit the verdant and rubicund strand. In returning hir attention forward, there was now a presence in the distance to which ze had not previously been aware. With great haste, yet care, Calmasis headed for the thing.  
Now on approach, its details became conspicuously manifested. A mass of blank eyes and tentacles. The sight was nigh inconceivable. Clusters of tendrils writed and the optics watched intensely; it could not be seen but rather felt.  
A beak protruded toward hir and the proboscis began clacking and jerking in a near impossible tongue. It was indistinct to Calmasis but a voice resounded in hir mind as a telepathic translation.  
“Young Calmasis. At long last thou hast awoken from thy slumber. And now thou hast wandered from thy chamber into mine presence. Long by mortal measurements hath I waited for thee.”  
“Who are you,” Calmasis thought in response.  
“My name as of now is inconsequential. ‘Tis what I am rather which might find thine interest. For I am a god. Of the very same ilk which hath contested with thy master.”  
“You are the gods Mister Zazzerpan won in chess matches against?”  
“Ay. For all too long we have competed ‘gainst each other. Longer than I should like to admit. Moving forward, ‘tis time to address the reason for thine advent.”  
“I… felt compelled to delve into this spacious abyss.”  
“As would be expected. That was my call unto thee, and thou hast answered it.”  
“But why did you call me?” Many intermittent pauses interleaved hir speech as ze grew accustomed to this beastly spectacle.  
“A matter of destiny of sorts. That is not what I wish to discuss presently. Rather I have a proposition. I wish to share with thee information. I think ‘twould do well for thee to begin study in a field known as ‘Grimdark.’ However, ‘tis not my only suggestion. Thou hast a companion who would as well benefit from the teachings.”  
“I am sorry, Grimdark?”  
“Ay. ‘Tis a field of advanced majykks of the gods.”  
“And you mentioned something of a… friend?”  
“The bellicose individual appears to exude great potential as well as most need. Thou can learn from the tome in thy room. The other shan‘t have such a luxury. It is in fact prophesied that none of thy friends shall rouse effectively. By the time that such a thing does happen, their death shall be imminent. He must instead submerge his conscious into meditation regularly to acquire proficiency. Such inner peace as well may offer tranquility to mollify his fever.”  
“And why should I do that? Because a space squid told me to?”  
“Should thee cooperate then I shall grant thee great power as does accompany the Grimdark majykks. Grimdarkness permits the user an echelon analogous to the gods ourselves. As well as great acumen shall be granted thee.”  
“Is that so?” Calmasis rubbed hir smooth chin in contemplation of this, but remained dubious. The reality seemed in fact real, but what evidence was there that this cephalopod was a god of all things and not a galactic calamari platter to be? On the other hand, a strong coveting of knowledge and power extended its hand from deep inside of hir and reached for the promises presented just before hir. It was all overwhelming and in the heat instigated by the magnitude of the restitution for an admittedly simple task, ze accepted. After all, what would there be to lose in the consonance? Perhaps but a relatively small amount of time with a gift of learning something anyway. And if the deal was upheld then the remuneration would be immense.  
With parting words to explain final points, the confreres separated. The subject was in the location of the book suggested. Most of it was illegible in some alternate language, but there were portions which were discernible. The nameless god’s instructions and advice proved useful in confronting this daunting subject.  
In time more lines would become clear to hir and within only days ze learned all that would be needed in instructing Larx in his meditation. But for now the child simply muddled through what fragments were presented. Rigorous nights of boning up would ensue in this endeavour.


	9. (Chapter Six and One Half): Intermission

A gentleman was in the parlor of a cave, a common residence used by himself and his cohorts. Impatiently, he tapped his fingers on the table waiting for time to pass. Time is such an interesting and subjective concept. For some it drones by at a rate of an eternity per hour. And for others it flies by like a hawk nose-diving for its next meal, swooping on its prey before the poor thing even knows what has happened. For this man it was, unfortunately and most tediously, the former.  
Time was passing as slowly as his colleague was. There was to be a brief conference between the two. A bang of his hair slipped sleepily over his eye. He swept it back over his ear. It fell again as casually and persistently as a distant relative asking for money. And so he swept it. And so it fell. And so it was swept. And so it continued in a perpetual cycle of futility and partial stupidity. A hair clip would have sufficed well, if not a trip to the coiffeur. His arm growing weak, he conceded to his hair’s whims and permitted it to obscure an eye.  
After about one and a half eternities later, his companion joined him at last. At this point the waiting half had fallen asleep headfirst on the table.  
“Wake up, slacker,” the man said as he rustled the other’s shoulder.  
“You‘re late, Ebauche.” The man named Ebauche rubbed down his slicked hair.  
“I didn‘t notice the time had gone by so quickly,” he replied in that fast-talking accent of his. The same amount of time had passed, quickly for one but slowly for the other.  
“What took you so long?”  
“I was playing a game with the old man.”  
“It‘s foolish to believe you‘ll actually outwit him.”  
“Maybe. But he spins such nice yarns.”  
“Let Tesser handle the spinning and yarn.”  
“Are you going to waste more time upbraiding me for my unpunctuality?”  
“I could go the rest of my life pointing out your flaws. But time is fleeting-”  
“-a limited resource-”  
“-only so much is allotted to each of us.”  
“So shall we begin?”  
“Let‘s shall.” Ebauche joined the other man at the table at the end of their banter.  
“So then, Izwak, what’s the plan?”  
“We‘ll be going without her for a while.”  
“What now? Run off again?”  
“It would appear so.” Izwak sighed and tried once more to move his hair by blowing upwardly on it. He was unsuccessful.  
“Well she is a tricky one.”  
“Most certainly not what she appears. Somewhat of a maverick, a wild card.”  
“We can manage without her this one time, I suppose. We seemed to last long enough before her anyway.”  
“Besides she has that lovely little habit of showing up when she‘s needed. And when she‘s not. Back on track, we will be visiting Regidom next. Intelligence has informed me that there is to be good ‘business’ there.” A corner of Izwak’s mouth slanted jaggedly upward. It was clear to anyone observing, be it on location or through some omniscient narrative, that there was a mutual understanding on the meaning of the word.  
“And not far away. We‘ll have to be cautious about it, though. Not exactly well-known to that audience.”  
“Within time we‘ll become a regular crowd favourite.”  
“The business should help with that.”  
“Meeting adjourned. We should begin preparations immediately.” Standing up at the ending of their brief conversation, Izwak headed for the door stripping himself of his green robe. A different costume would be in order for this trip. Ebauche followed him to change and inform the others that they would begin travel soon. It would take a short while to gather all of the necessities and cross the ocean between their island and Regidom.  
It so happens that these mysterious gents were not the only ones on a star-crossed voyage to Regidom. Nor were they even the only ones to be attaining new attire.


	10. (Chapter Seven): It Begins

Many weeks passed by and preparations intensified for the wizards. Eight wagons were prepared for transit, one for a pair of students and their teachers and two for supply storage. Zazzerpan the Learned and Frigglish the Lurid volunteered to coach the spare carts leaving their respective students without supervision inside. One teacher from each took care of their own. The students were paired as follows: Calmasis with Kanry, Japeson with Belrous, Vimstrell with Altrix, Selphentrine with Alouette, Gaury with Martine, and Larx with Uric. With his new tranquil deportment under Calmasis’ tutelage, Larx remained restful for the ride and gave Uric the serendipity he required.  
Since QuianZu the Auspicious was at the reins, Calmasis used both his and Zazzerpan’s vacant seats to place the serpents’ tanks. Kanry also took advantage of this opportunity to pile swatches of fabric on top of it. Cloth also littered the floor. Kanry had undertaken a new assignment: making new garbs for the students to wear in public. She had taken requests from each.  
Calmasis also snuck the black book along (though it remained blank) and hid it underneath of hir sea. It was wrapped in the scarf ze had received as a gift which ze had until now worn constantly. More discarded scrap cloth concealed it further. Doffing the scarf might have upset Kanry, ze though so ze explained that it had been set aside to avoid getting tattered or sullied.  
The contrast between the two passengers was a trifle humorous. One sat in hir missized black robes and the other in a festive dress. One with pale skin and snowy curls, the other with tanned skin and raven locks. Calmasis was a monochromic portrait of a long-lashed starry-eyed child alone in a tundra landscape, the barren ground colliding on the horizon with the sky in a struggle for dominance. A kingdom of light and a kingdom of darkness. Two sides of the chess board met in the center of the battlefield.  
Contrariwise, Kanry was an ode to jubilation. Roaring reds mingling with fiery oranges bursting on a rapturous canvas. Cooler hues of blues and greens thickened between the gaps of flamboyant warmth. A chilled personality enclosed by a vibrant mien.  
“What are you working on, Kanry?”  
“Just one of the suits.”  
“Anything I can do to help?” Kanry handed hir the thread to keep it untangled during her sewing.  
“I think we‘re visiting a neighboring kingdom. I did a fair amount of research on it while you held your… sessions with Larx. Nothing to hide, it seems. The elders were enthusiastic to discuss it.”  
“Were they?”  
“They were. Not precise on our intent, but it seems likely we‘ll be treated to royalty. One of my Aunties went before royalty once as I recall. Her Highness had commissioned of the seam-spinning spinsters a dress for an upcoming gala. In truth the design was bland and lacking any real regal flair, but it seemed her majesty was fond of the concept- the less is more mindset that season.”  
“I never thought I would hear of a queen who was not mad for more. They will go to great lengths for whatever they desire and in any direction they need to.” A chess reference, obviously, Kanry surmised.  
“I cared less for her intentions and more for the business that particular queen brought to the store. We had a list of orders which went on for days. The whole thing didn‘t last of course. About a month passed and everyone had moved on to the next fashion craze. There went our surplus of funds. Our clientele transferred to hideous bodysuits. Skin-tight and accentuating each unsightly fold. I heard it told that even after the rest had moved on, the queen retained the atrocious vogue. Her sense of style was clearly damaged.”  
“How unfortunate for the poor crone.”  
“Alone she was nothing to look at, the clothes really do make the wearer, I guess. In this case worse. Who could take anyone seriously when you can see every heave of breath and movement their body makes? Anyway, that should finish off that shirt.” Kanry neatly folded it on the seat across from them.  
“You are making swell progress.”  
“I‘ve years of experience working under deadlines. They should be ready by the time we arrive in Regidom if not sooner.”  
“You were saying something about that-”  
“Oh yes, before I went off on my anecdotal tirade. We will probably be treated royally, you see, as Mister Zazzerpan is rather close friends with Queen Abeli.”  
“He never mentioned her.” This was probably a result of senility. Those who have seemingly lived forever have such unfortunate side effects.  
“It‘s likely he never thought to.”  
“He is not stingy of bragging. He is as well no stranger to pride.”  
“Mister QuianZu mentioned it to me during the preparations. I‘m sure he‘s had much on his mind as of late anyway.”  
“True.” Calmasis propped hir elbow against the window.  
The scenery passing by was lovely. In the far distance spanned the Partition Mountains. A rocky spine which marked the limits of Queen Abeli’s kingdom. Just on the other side was the state of Regidom, home of the royal family. All else on the opposite side was independent. This included their next destination, Syrs Gnelph, and the College.  
The spiraling slope around the plateau on which their home and school was mounted soon took the image of the earthly mounds away only to permit a few more peeks of the peaks and to steal them away yet again. This descent alone took many hours to surmount (ironically). A generally poor path in retrospect.

Carriages spilled from the entrance swiftly, they were deposited just to the North of Syrs Gnelph. Had they departed much later it might have been dusk when they finally arrived to the rural town of Syrs Gnelph. Just outside the perimeters the vehicles came to a stop to allow both drivers and passengers to stretch their legs. What a tiresome voyage it was already proving to be.  
With their transportation secured and the horses cared for, the Complacency and their students now made their entrance. To say the least it was not flamboyant with a banner of fireworks nor a grim insignia lighting darkened clouds above. A simple affair comprised of walking inside and nothing else. Astoundingly plain for revered wizards. Nobody was impressed nor did they care about the two dozen wizards in goofy hats and robes walking the streets. More than anything were they disgruntled by the interloping majykk practitioners.  
Somewhat bound to the past, were they. Housing was constructed of wooden logs, commercial areas were built of stone. Most of the citizens were farmers, a self-providing community concerned with only the essentials. This being said, the inhabitants were as simple as the wizards’ entrance.  
Navigating reasonably calm streets, the Complacency headed their party toward the town hall, as with the rest of the place it seemed to be a monument to mediocrity and was only differentiated from the other buildings by a sign on the door which read “Town Hall.”  
Therein was a portly man sporting a finely curled moustache. The face he made was reminiscent of one tasting a lemon which proved exactly how little he appreciated this new company.  
“Good evening, my equally good man,” Zazzerpan announced.  
“It was. Why have you come to Syrs Gnelph? What business do you have in our fine community?”  
“We are only passing through. As you might take note of, the sky is flushing with the pinks and purples of dusk and soon shall be swallowed by the darkness. As will we if we continue our journey. We request that you offer us succor for the night and we shall be on our way.” The man saw only one way to deal with the ways of the likes of the elderly wizard. Negotiation.  
“You can stay under probation. There will be none of that soul tainting magic of yours.”  
“Of course not, child. For magic is fake!” The Complacency guffawed heartily at this. The children remained silent. And the one labeled a child began to grow red in the face. With his rotund shape and pointed chin, he nearly resembled a strawberry. A jittering, seething and mustachioed strawberry, granted. He seemed enraged at being called a juvenile.  
“But why come to me? I do not have lodging for two dozen.”  
“Oh yes, our reason for coming here,” Frigglish explained. “Where is the nearest tavern?”  
“The only one likely to be willing and able of accommodating your number would be ‘The Pigglety Heron’ to the North of here. Provided your eyes can still read the sign, it shouldn‘t prove that difficult to locate.”  
The children were instructed to thank the nice man which issued a cacophonous chorus of “thank you‘s.” The elders did not join them. Outside, Cuttletard the Deft asked who could first point out which way was North. Uric jumped at this opportunity and removed from his pocket a shiny pocket watch, hence the name, and thrust his finger to the direction. The top of the watch had been fashioned into a compass. It really was a special gift as he had explained on their trip to the inn. Something about a baroness, or spider slave, a pirate maybe? In honesty nobody had really been paying attention.

The building at which they arrived was, unsurprisingly, no more glamorous than the rest of the place. The doors squeaked when pulled and the floor sank slightly under their accumulative weight. Smarny the Voracious did not exactly contribute beneficially to this. He was something of a Bombur character. Except useful. The front desk was plastered with dust so old that it had solidified to the surface.  
The man across the counter perked slightly at their arrival. He was a droopy-faced man of little outstandingness. The look in his eyes gave way that he had not had a customer in a god while. Then again who could blame anyone considering the filthy state of his establishment.  
“Hello, my good man,” Zazzerpan said having not yet tired out the greeting. “I am Zazzerpan the Learned and this, my Complacency. We wish to rent lodging from you for the night so that we may continue our journey on the morrow.”  
“For all of you?” The fellow’s eyes began to dart among each of them like a cat choosing its fish in the tank.  
“If you would. Can you accommodate our party?”  
“Gladly,” his voice began wavering uneasily. It was like an elderly cash cow had teetered directly into his milking barn.  
“Marvelous! And have you any ale? My companions and I are quite thirsty. And some water for our students.”  
Their publican disappeared behind a door to fetch some beveragges while Zazzerpan solicited the expense from Gastrell the Munificent. When the man returned he placed a platter of mugs before them. It took him several trips to serve all of them considering his business was in miserable disrepair and an economic drain that no sane person would apply to work in. Zazzerpan handed over the cost for a night’s stay and for the drinks.  
The ale was dry and stale, far from its frothy state of optimal enjoyment of days long passed. But the withered taste buds of the elders did not notice this. They were washed over with expired alcohol and content with their feeding as the vegetative variety of buds are. As for the children, the water was a queer colour, if not slightly clouded. Selphentrine and Gaury advised everyone to not bother with it. Indulged with their drinking, the teachers bade the children to choose their rooms.  
Croaking stairs and floorboards, windows opaque with dust, moths making their end day meal of the curtains. Upstairs was, again unsurprisingly, no better than downstairs. The entire town was a continuation of disappointment. As soon as it seemed it had no worse to offer, something showed up. A perfect metaphor for life and the children’s first crude introduction to the arch of the rest of their lives. A parabola with a harsh slope.  
Each student received a room just like at home. The conditions were less than satisfactory and there were no murals of mingling cherubs on the ceiling lit up by a chandelier suspended from the center, but it was better than no housing. In theory. Kanry joined Uric in his room and bestowed him with his requested outfit that she had toted along. The first finished.  
“I hope I got the measurements right. It was hard to be exact with your constant fidgeting.”  
“We‘ll find out,” he replied with a smile. Kanry took her leave of the room to permit him the privacy to change and returned when he called for her. A demonstration of more modesty than the two men had had.  
A white shirt with its buttons entirely mismatched with their respective holes. Half of it was untucked and the other half was safely secured in the bottle-green pants personalized with a special pocket and belt loop for that beloved watch. The silver chain hung proudly on his lap. Overall, a good fit, Kanry observed.  
“How do I look?”  
“A bit disheveled but not bad if I may say so myself. I‘m grateful as well for a simple request unlike others. Alouette was rather kind in giving me so much work to keep me busy these coming days lain before us. Calmasis‘ is much more complicated, but also a different subject. I am working hard on it and gladly. Difficult, but a project and gift to overcome. I worked on it when they took a nap on the way here. I feel that I will be doing similarly hereon.”  
She returned to her own room and left him to his enthusiasm. The whispers did not stop. That night they rebounded in the rooms as they ever had. And of course the elders were as deaf and complacent to the voices as ever thanks to the booze. The slumber of the youngsters was infested with dreams. Larx dreamt of the void that Calmasis had been called to, quiet and calm. Uric dreamt of the past. Alouette dreamt of smacking Selphentrine. Selphentrine dreamt of tripping Alouette down a flight of stairs. Calmasis did not visit hir room that night, but rather dreamt of talking with hir snakes.

The morning brought more wonderful displeasure. A storm had brewed overnight, and a rather strong one at that. The roads would be innavigable and dangerous. Zazzerpan set out into the rainy streets to explain to the man that they would require elongated refuge. Frankly the man did not really care as long as they left him alone and refrained from their magi- er, “majykk.”  
The teachers took pity on these poor provincial laborers and sent Alouette to entertain them with a ballad in a recreational hall. Smarny brought Martine along to cook something pleasant for the rainy weather. Frigglish also managed to produce a surprise, however one less charitable. He had found on his bed a large clock with an equally oversized chain attached to the top in a loop. The clear action to take with it, he decided, was to wear it around his neck as a necklace. It did admittedly give him a certain extra flavour.  
“Mister Frigglish,” Calmasis called. “Do you not think you should turn it in? It might be the owner‘s or a previous visitor‘s.”  
“Nonsense, my child,” Frigglish replied, beaming. “It is far too nice a clock for anyone to have recklessly left laying around. And much too loud at that. Tick, tock, tick, tock,” he began reciting in rhythm with the enormous timepiece. “And besides, everyone knows that when you come upon a mysterious artifact in an unlikely place on an adventure such as this one, it is destiny that the finder keep it! It will likely prove to be a great aid to us later in our journey.”  
“How will a giant clock help us?”  
“We will never lose the time.”  
“Uric has a watch.”  
“We will not have to wait for him to retrieve and open it.” With his argument finished, Frigglish bounded off to ensure that everyone had seen his marvelous new neckwear. As marvelous as it was ostentatious. Calmasis considered returning to hir room before there came many thumps from above. Ze followed this noise upstairs where it still seemed to come from higher yet. A shaky ladder led into a grimy attic. The front desk did not compare slightly to the dust and cobwebs up there. The smell was putrid.  
Belrous was huddled in a corner, her shoulders convulsing. Crying? Had something happened to her? Ze dashed over as quickly and as carefully as ze could and outreached a hand to still her shoulders.  
“Is everything okay?” Her face turned to meet hirs, a huge smile strung on her face as usual. She was laughing.  
“Everything is fine! Look at this, Calmasis. This rat is in such good condition! It is entirely intact unlike the ones Japeson sometimes brings me. It must have died recently too! Rigor mortis hasn‘t set in yet so it‘s nice and squishy! Downright huggable.” Calmasis had no response to this and simply stared with upturned eyebrows and a slightly agape mouth.  
“Belrous… what are you doing up here?”  
“I thought I saw Japeson come up here so I was going to follow him. But I guess I didn‘t.” She was fast to dismiss this strange occurrence. No longer able to take the stench, Calmasis lifted a sleeve to cover hir face.  
“What is that awful smell?” Belrous’ face went blank and stared at hir. Ze remembered her disability.  
“Oh… right. It smells… like something burning.” The two explored the attic and at last came upon a mushy clump that was the charred remains of a group of other rats. Scorched thoroughly and just barely distinguishable as a once-living thing.  
Was it Japeson’s doing? It would not be unlike him to watch the rats suffer while on fire. But that would have taken too long if Belrous had spotted him. He must have done it the night before while everyone was asleep. He had, hypothetically, returned to enjoy more torture and hidden when she came up. They could not find him in the room. Perhaps he had gotten away while they were talking or looking? Whatever chicanery he was up to had to stop. There was a majykk prohibition while in Syrs Gnelph. If he kept this up he would get them all kicked out.


	11. (Chapter Eight): The Trial

For the violation of probation and endangerment of eviction, only the strictest of legal processing would be rightfully applicable. A revolting habit now a heinous crime. The defendant would surely repent for their transgressions. Selphentrine was the best for the case. A self-proclaimed defender of justice and sensually-perceptive master, she was determined to draw out this game of detectives and court for as long as the winding and elabourate plot would allow.  
Such malevolence, Calmasis had always figured, would serve as their grand undoing. Nothing good would spawn from the carnage of broken bodies Japeson left behind. This very same thing, ze hypothesized, would prove to be his most fatal flaw.  
The accused resided on the bench, or bed as it were, in his room. Her Honorable Judge Selphentrine entered the court to begin her evaluation accompanied by Kanry and Calmasis. The defense did not even stand to greet her presence! She would surely note this insolence. That would strike one. The imaginary jury rose which did rise saved her a bit of dignity.  
Lacking a gavel, she rapped the base of her staff on the floor. Confused, Japeson lifted his head to them. The Lady of Justice leaned on her cane with a righteous smirk smudged on her face.  
“Japeson, prepare yourself to feel my prosecution,” she declared.  
“Your what,” Japeson stammered in disgust.  
“Is it true,” Selphentrine asked, disregarding his own question. Court was no place for chewing the fat. “That you have violated the agreement to abstain from majyyk use while in the perimeters of Syrs Gnelph? Yes or no."  
“What are you talking about? I haven‘t used majyyk since I got here.”  
“Do you swear under the penalty of purgery on the great tome of transcripts of the tall-pansted prophet to speak only sooth?”  
“Yes!” Japeson was in great distress and confusion over the sudden surprise prosecution party.  
“Bring in the witness,” she breathed. Belrous entered this child’s game of pretend.  
“Do you swear-”  
“Sometimes.” Belrous snickered at her joke and was subsequently greeted with a gentle, though effective, beaning courtesy of the judge’s righteous staff.  
“Don‘t interrupt. As I was saying; do you swear under the penalty of purgery on the great tome of transcripts of the tall-pansted prophet to speak only sooth?”  
“I do.”  
“This is a lawful procession, not a wedding.”  
“Yes.”  
“Would you please tell the jury what you saw?” She gestured toward a wall where, in her mind, the jury was located.  
“I saw Japeson going into the attic so I followed him. And then Calmasis joined me.”  
“What a shocking development that‘s been unearthed! An esteemed member of our court of law is entangled in the plot being unraveled before us!” All the while of this game, Selphentrine was becoming more and more theatric. She was even beginning to acquire a semblance to a judge- the black robe might have sealed the deal if they hadn’t all been wearing them.  
“What the hell are you talking about,” Japeson cried out. “I didn‘t go upstairs ever since we‘ve been here. You‘re all mad.”  
“Shush! Or I will hold you in contempt of court.” The accused pouted and pursed his lips shut. Smoldering coal eyes burned through his peers. Selphentrine then requested Calmasis to recount the events. Ze obliged and related to the others the happenings of the last chapter which would be far too redundant to even bother with rewriting. The judge requested that the defendant make his plea. He pleaded innocent. The judge commented on how it’s always the case and wondered, why must they make it difficult on us all.  
In the end of that quickly tiring amateur court scene, the verdict came to guilty by the jury. The sentence: to clean up the awful, smelly mess and to do so discreetly so as not to raise questions; a task he begrudgingly carried out. Fortunately the torrential downpour left the outdoors rather vacant.

Larx and Vimstrell were assigned to aid in fortifying the citizens’ homes which were not built to properly withstand such a harsh storm. The plain folk were relieved to witness muscle over mind in action rather than “any a that magicky gobbled-gook.”  
In this new assuaged disposition, Larx was of little use in comparison to his anterior abilities. The work was messy but then again, the boys didn’t mind getting a little down and dirty once in a while. Alouette continued to belt out operatic incantations that lifted the spirits of those listening. Her audience didn’t need to know about her voice’s enchanting qualities. Never a chance for charity was to go by without the Complacency jumping at it like starving lions. Some sort of decision found by convoluted self-direction as a secondary payment for their stay, as if the value of their rooms was not enough.  
Calmasis was eager to explore this new uncharted place. Too busy sewing, Kanry rejected the kind offer and remained in the downstairs lobby. All of the other students were busy, Uric inspecting Frigglish’s majyyk clock. Selphentrine with Girgund learning the local legislature. This would call for a solo traipse.  
Setting out, ze brought along an umbrella as hir sole companion. It was rather friendly what with its loquacious pitter-pattering. Despite its friendly chatting it constantly tried to tear itself away and ride the breeze to some place far away like a nanny when her job is done. Nevertheless, Calmasis’ grip was true and luck in favour for it did not unfold in the gale revealing its slim, metallic skeleton for all to see, upward pointed like a dark hooked torch. It was still not a very comfortable ordeal what with the slanted rain cutting on hir tender cheeks.  
Refuge from the precipitating onslaught was found under a thick tree. A convenient bench offered hard wooden comfort for the child’s toches. Ze could but only sigh with wondrous ennui.  
“What a sight that I have ever seen,” Calmasis recited, “This arbitrary ablution from the heavens above. Perhaps to baptize this land, to cleanse it of its unrelenting sins. To quenched the parched throat of humanity. Or perhaps to drown this land and its misdeeds.”  
An elderly woman with the sun-dried face of a raisin hobbled over and joined hir on the bench. She picked out some handfuls of molded bread and tossed them to the birds that were not there. The chunks grew soggy in the rainfall and became further inedible.  
The woman’s head turned to her bench-mate but not without a few cracks from her bones. She looked the youngster over and frowned.  
“Little girl…” she began. “Why is your hair so short? Young respectable ladies shouldn‘t wear their hair so short.” A nervous grin wedged itself onto Calmasis’ face.  
“Pardon me, ma‘am, but I am not a girl.” The woman drew her head back. That was certainly odd.  
“Then why are you wearing a dress?” Her eyes scanned the mundane cloth’s length. “Boys wearing dresses, even weirder then girls with short hair.” The granny of no less “then” eighty shook her head at the gall of this new generation and its abhorrent abnormality.  
“They are robes and, again, my pardon, but I am not a boy either.” The biddy’s neck craned backward even further and nearly threw her from her seat. How outrageously foreign a notion, she could declare! Why, who ever heard of a not-girl-not-boy? Certainly not her and likely no one she knew, she’d reckon. This display of elderly astonishment and trepidation accumulated a small audience.  
“You must be one or the other,” a bearded man called from the group of passersby.  
“Not exactly. I am neither.” Gasps galore. “Or perhaps one, the other or both.” Sheer consternation.  
“Stop playing around there, boy.”  
“You‘ve got to choose one or the other, little girl.”  
“No I don’t…”  
“People shouldn‘t hide their gender.” These and other statements resounded from the audience.  
“But I do not feel like a boy nor do I feel like a girl. It is easy for you all to say one has to feel like one or the other when that is how you feel. How can you say my feelings are any less valid when you yourselves have not experienced them and cannot empathize with? I do not call your genders any less real because I do not experience them. And honestly, I find it incredibly creepy that a group of older people are so intensely interested in the contents of a young child’s underwear.  
“Why do you even cling so taught to the concept of gender anyway?” Calmasis questioned now coming to a stand. “Sure it gives you something of a sense of order, but beyond that what does it really contribute to society? The only thing it actually has to offer is restrictions. As a girl, this is expected of you. As a boy, that. Would you not rather be judged and evaluated for your personal merits than what is expected of you? Why be ‘pretty strong for a girl’ or ‘rather refined for a boy.’ And even so, since nobody knows what exactly I am, and I suspect I myself have still yet to chart that territory to its entirety, nobody will know what to expect of me,” ze finished with a sly, knowing smirk. Hir words spread over the small herd of “students” before hir, an awfully precocious sermon akin to those of the august pansted prophet of old.  
Hir conclusion was met with a raucous applause composed of outraged voices. Preposterous; nobody could “choose which gender they are” or have “a sense of personal identity.” It was not quite the response for which ze’d hoped for and was sorrowfully the one ze had expected. Tenacious lot of dunces.  
Calmasis returned to the inn disappointed but not down-hearted. Amazing how far human intolerance could continue to astound. Hir speech had fallen on ears of stone. Mentally unmoving statues crafted from bigotry. Though stone has the capability of being chiseled and reformed, did it not? This mulled around in hir mind on the circuit back to the inn. That is, until hir thoughts were interrupted by a low, rasping voice.  
“Kid.” Calmasis turned about, looking for wherever the voice had originated, but to no avail. “You there, kid. Yes, you with the white hair. Stop all your shufflin’ around, I’m down here.” Ze followed the voice’s instructions and found hirself looking toward the foundation of a house. Sprouting from a hole between the ground and the house’s construction was a head. A rather old one, at that, with a large nose and luxurious mustache.  
To an adult, this sight might have stirred feelings of dread or shock. But to a child whose imagination and gullibility had yet to atrophy to the jaded throes of age, Calmasis did not ponder the possible consequences of this meeting. Ze did not consider there was a burglary in process, nor did ze even entertain the foreign thought that perhaps some rude little bumpkin had parked her house on a local resident in her wind-based majyykal invasion of the town. An acclaimed witch of sorts who would steal the breath of all the land’s citizens. Nor would ze even be able to appreciate this double- dare I suggest triple Mobius reacharound reference. Let us pretend for a moment that we could even perceive of a Mobius Strip with more surfaces and complexity before we tire ourselves and return to this choice meeting.  
“Hello, do you need my help?”  
“Not with getting out from underneath this house,” he offered with a kindly grin of his razor sharp teeth. A cavern of porcelain knives. “But it is in fact you who need I as well.”  
“I do?”  
“You do.”  
“How is that?”  
“I’m here to guide you. Like a… fairy god wraith.” It must be understood that our groomed ground-fellow did not use the term guardian angel not only because it is such a tired phrase, but because angels hold a different role in this world’s mythology. Angels are a set of deities, lesser than the gender-defiant gods, but greater than humans, who do indeed hold the responsibility of guardianship. But not of any select inhabitants, but of the entire planet. It is foretold from ages old that in a great time of terror and peril that the angels will fight to protect the planet from an evil, oncoming threat that some believe to have somehow already been present since the planet’s creation. So why did he use a phrase such as “fairy god x;” aside from very clearly being an artistic choice? Why don’t you just appreciate the goddamned world building and ignore it.  
“What is that?”  
“It’s a type of magnanimous person who helps you on your personal quests. I imagine you’ll encounter many such people in your life. Though they’ll probably call themselves something different. Fairy god wraith was just an artistic choice.”  
“I see, and accept this naming method. But why are you here now?”  
“The timing isn’t all that important. It’s just something that had to happen eventually, my introduction. And a lot of things are about to change in your life, so it seemed as appropriate as ever.”  
“How do you know things are about to change,” ze asked, waxing wary.  
“I can smell them,” he replied in a manner that did not at all sound like someone who thought there was anything bizarre about claiming to be able to smell the future.  
“S-… smell?”  
“Well how else am I supposed to see?”  
“I… I… uh… hmm…”  
“Obviously I am blind.”  
“Oh.” That clearly explained everything and left no loose ends to be tended to.  
“I am blind,” he repeated, almost assuring the still fazed child. “So I can see in smells. The world manifests itself to me as a palette of scents. My olfactory prowess is so acute that I can smell someone opening a pickle jar no less than three miles away. As a matter of fact, a woman is opening one right now and rationing its contents among her family of five- no- six. One of them is standing next to a pot of rotting flowers. And another one is in love.” To the man, Calmasis smelled like a wizarding beverage delicacy we wouldn’t know anything about. It’s called a “Root Beer.”  
“Okay… I mean I do not have any way of verifying or challenging that, but okay…”  
“I wouldn’t lie to you. What motivation would I even have to lie about something like this? But do remember that sometimes it is necessary to lie.”  
“It cannot be. Lying is always wrong! It is deceptive and robs trust and…”  
“And sometimes it’s necessary, depending on who you’re talking to. Not everyone is deserving of your truth. And to escape from a situation unscathed, it might be essential that you do not disclose that truth. Sometimes your silence too is a lie. Even if you do not know what the truth is or what the lie is, a certain answer could still mean an entirely different outcome. As someone who can smell paths of the results of decisions made like the winding veins mapping your body, you can trust me. They are like rivers feeding into each other. Some split and meet up again later, others stay split, but they all are very distinct and I have a knack for identifying them.”  
Calmasis stood in awe, unsure how to register or respond to this strange new information. Fortunately however, it was then that ze noticed just how dark it was becoming.  
“I have to go now, mister.” Ze said, backing away toward the direction of the inn.  
“You do,” he confirmed. “And you can call me Hastings,” he called, craning his black scaly neck.  
Thoughts of the many things which had happened that day danced around nervously in hir head, like ballet dancers on an oiled stage. The thoughts continued to linger until ze finally succumbed to sleep.

Hir brain was racked and rid of the question by a tumult. A raging mob was boiling outside with lightning splitting the sky above. Thunder overpowered the shouting occasionally. Calmasis rose sheepishly and hastily stumbled into the hall; a few others began to emerge from their rooms as well. There were others already downstairs.  
The Complacency and a handful of their students were collected on the porch fronted by none other than the Predicant Scholar himself. Frigglish stood beside him and a student was held between them indistinguishable by the wild chaos. No amount of tippy-toed teetering revealed their identity to hir.  
“Please calm yourselves,” Zazzerpan boomed in that projected voice of teachers. The crowd conveyed their refusal.  
“I‘m sure th-that there is an explanation,” a flustered Frigglish managed to stutter out. The children did their best to look everywhere but at the perpetrator. It wasn’t as… awkward that way. Calmasis attempted to use process of elimination, but not all of them had awoken yet and the rapidly moving background of a lake of people made it difficult to focus. Ze just then took notice of the owner standing to the side, apart from either of the sides. His face was resting in his palm.  
Zazzerpan was growing more and more tired of the noise and issued one last forceful bellow which for the most part silenced the citizens. He then demanded to know just what exactly the meaning of all of this was. A farmer spake.  
“The little bastard killed ma chickuns,” he shouted, pointing an accusatory digit aimed lethally at the child.  
“I didn‘t do it,” they whined. It donned upon Calmasis upon hearing the voice. An epiphany of identity. Oh gods… could it really be? But surely enough it was; ze squeezed by a few students to see Japeson in the arms of his mentors.  
“What happened,” Zazzerpan demanded, speaking over the rain.  
“I didn‘t do it,” he repeated.  
“I saw him last night in ma pen. His hair was a little matted down by tha rayn, but I could see them curls clear as day.” The man pointed toward the crown of his head where Japeson’s iconic horns sprouted.  
“I saw him do it too, from across the street,” a woman added. “Same face and everythin‘.”  
“I didn‘t do it!”  
“And he used that magic too! He pulled out his li‘l stick‘n cut ma chickuns all up with some sorta curse‘r spell or tha like!”  
“Trust me,” Frigglish explained, “Japeson would not harm your poultry. I told him- we told all of our kids- not to use majyyk.” He put added stress on the correction of “majyyk.”  
“He gets a little angry sometimes,” he confessed, “And sometimes he lashes out when he‘s feeling poorly, but he came from a bad home! Why you should‘ve seen-”  
“We want you to leave our town,” the mayor declared from among the crowd. That damned strawberry.  
“We can‘t leave now,” Zazzerpan reminded, lifting a gnarled finger to indicate the rain as if the sopping citizens needed reminding of its presence. “It is far too dangerous to travel in this weather.” All of this was very true aside from Frigglish’s misunderstanding of Japeson’s misdeeds.  
Calmasis had to attempt to rectify things, ze‘d always been quite persuasive. Ze turned hir attention to Alouette. They shared a brief moment of silent understanding. ‘Could you sing to calm them down long enough to negotiate?’ ‘No,’ she raised her trembling hands to her face and touched her mouth under her wide eyes. She could not sing loudly enough to be effective. And she was… ze understood. With a fair amount of unfortunately rude shoving, Calmasis made it to the front. Lying is wrong… but sometimes it is necessary to maintain safety, right? These were the things that Hastings man had said. The conversation creeped back up the back of hir mind. But was this really the time to be proactive? He had said that in some situations it was hir abstinence from contributing that would be ideal. Calmasis was faced with a very contrasting decision. Ze would attest as a character witness.  
“Japeson would not do that. He is a good person and would not betray his hosts so.” What a bad taste in hir mouth. Ze would have to clean hir tongue with soap for this. Japeson’s bleary, tear-stained eyes focused on hir. Ze was… protecting him. Ze really was his friend! Sadly to say that this was not the case. Some of the mob took this into consideration. They took it into consideration for all of two minutes or so before an elderly woman opened her ancient trap.  
“Ain‘t that the miscreant from yesterday,” she asked. Members of the crowd yesterday rose in an uproar and those who had not caught wind of the scandal were informed on-scene. Everyone had become even more upset and resolute than before. The last of the students joined them now.  
The Complacency was made to collect all that they’d brought from their rooms and vamoose immediately. It was a crazed process and some of the children straggled slightly in confusion over what was happening. In the end everyone had evacuated the inn and passed through a boulevard of jeering citizens to their wagons. Most of the students escaped the rain quickly by scuttling into their carts, others remained to assist the elders in setting things up. Japeson remained outside but did not help. In fact he did nothing but stand there moping.  
Calmasis approached him and put two hands firmly on his shoulders. He winced. The shoulders were shuddering beneath hir hands. At last Japeson worked the courage to take a small peak at hir. Ze was not pleased.  
“Did you do it,” Calmasis demanded rather than asked. Japeson babbled something intermitting sniffs and hacks until ze shook him a bit. Ze reiterated the question.  
“I didn‘t do it,” he whined. The rain mixed in with his tear-streaked face. It was just a wet, blubbering mess. Ze didn’t trust him, but there was hir answer. A few moments more of intense glaring and ze and Kanry entered their carriage.  
Japeson remained outside repeating “I didn‘t do it” out loud to nobody in particular. Once everyone else had boarded, he was sternly moved into his own carriage with Belrous by one of the elders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably noticed a very familiar trait in our dear friend Hastings. And it is hardly suspect that you'd be right!  
> You see, while writing this chapter, I had originally intended for there to be a character to plant a seed of minor evil in Calmasis' head. That is, to suggest to them that lying wasn't all that bad of a thing as kids are usually lead to believe. In the final draft I ended up forgetting that detail and instead had Calmasis plant the doubt themselves. I fixed this by editing the chapter and including Hastings (as well as fixing Calmasis' small speech about nonbinary genders, a speech which still is far from perfect representation.)  
> But Hastings is not cheap ripoff of Ms. Pryope. Rather, it would seem that Hastings was a creative predecessor to Terezi, and to a smaller extent, Doc Scratch. In Hussie's own Wizardy Herbert (which I have been endeavoring to read for many reasons) Hastings is a blind man with an eel body who sees in smells and works for a "less gracious boss." When I got to his part in the story, it became obvious to me that he was the perfect candidate for this particular role.  
> In case you couldn't tell, I intend for Herbert and his friends to have a role in Complacency of the Learned as said Complacency made a cameo in one of Herbert's fantasies. Their spot in the story however, will be considerably more significant than the Complacency's.  
> (My reading Wizardy Herbert before proceeding too much further is only one of many unfortunately minor roadblocks in the path of my writing COTL.)


	12. (Chapter Nine): It Continues

It was a miracle that the Complacency arrived to Regidom unscathed. Some cherub or octopoid god must have watched over them during their premature travel, for there was no reason why they should not have been blown off the road or swept into a ravine or any other matter of catastrophe. But if you were to eavesdrop on their reflections you would not hear a single one complaining. With the treacherous Partition Mountains and storm to their heels, they could proceed with their quest after a handful of days’ travel later.  
The city was a crown jewel of Queen Abeli’s kingdom. It is not difficult to fathom why, of course. The queen was not notorious for an unhealthy pride but no monarch would dare have the home of their castle be sub-par. From somewhere out near the center the walls of the castle stretched above and beyond the lower roofed buildings. One exceptionally large tower extended just beneath the sun. The position made it look as though the sun were mounted on a staff. There was nothing this queen did not own, including the sun itself. It would have been a spectacle worth more awe if it did not pain the eyes so to observe it.  
Just to the capital’s borders were the slums. Though even these people were hygienic and well-dressed. Content smiles on the working class strolling about their quotidian schedules. Homes built of decent wood, perhaps a cracked window here or there but nothing too severe. The horses now plodded on cobblestone streets instead of dirt. Clopping as intently as a hot and bothered fan of a show about ponies.  
Ahead were the nicer buildings of middle classed citizens. They had been constructed mostly of stone with wooden accents. Fewer people were out and about and were a child to look hard enough, the sky was dotted with colours. The castle was bigger now, and more detail exposed itself. Some of the windows seemed to be stained and statues were placed on many ledges. But through the other window… there appeared to be flags flittering just above the roofs of the approaching upper class residential area encircling the castle.  
It seemed there was an event in progress in the town square. Caravans had been assembled along the edges and a large tent had been pitched in the middle of it all. Encircling were many smaller tents with some sort of booths underneath of them. The entire display had a mirthful aura that filled the students with both jubilance and apprehension. It appeared, on their less distanced observation, that the area had been roped off for the day’s affairs. In front of the entrance was a hulking figure that was accepting entrance fees as well as ensuring the placidity and overall lack of malignancy of the attendees. Nobody would be sneaking in or causing trouble as long as he was on guard as the bouncer.  
The Complacency’s carriages were parked to the side in an appropriate and out of the way location. The couple dozen wizards approached the person at the end of the line. The poor man was horribly startled when he turned to see a group of elderly old men in towering pointed caps and sweeping cloaks surrounding him. Afraid he was going to be mugged, he quickly latched onto his wife’s arm for protection. But Zazzerpan beamed a gentle smile on that sun-wrinkled face.  
“What is all of this ballyhoo about,” their leader inquired.  
“There‘s a festival visiting Regidom and today is their last day. Everyone who hasn‘t already been and people craving more are packing in today for their last chance, sir.”  
“Hohoho,” Zazzerpan chortled in such a way that the only things which differentiated him from Father Christmas was a red fur coat and a belly of jelly. “Children, would you like to see the fete champetre?” All of the students cheered excitedly in response. Perhaps only two of them had ever witnessed such a miracle and even for them it had been an external viewing. “Why just think, if we‘d stayed in Syrs Gnelph we would have missed out on the show!” Zazzerpan clapped Japeson on the back only for him to mumble a half-hearted “I didn‘t do it.”  
“What is the name of this troupe of entertainers,” called Frigglish from the rear.  
“They call themselves The Dark Carnival.”  
“That sounds delightful,” Zazzerpan cheered.  
“That sounds foreboding,” Martine said just under her breath. At last they all filed in but not without a perceptive eyebrow raise of the sentinel.

The spread was moderate but generous, very much like how one’s toast may look after smearing a dab of butter. It appeared that the Dark Carnival have various attractions, quite the selection. Smarny barreled toward the station handling fried bread and other such treats. Two men alone were dashing about inside, sweat dripping from their chins but never touching the food. And yet they still managed the oven in such a way to not leave any guest unsatisfied.  
Zazzerpan took Calmasis by the hand and lead hir to a particular booth he’d spotted. The man there was standing rather pompously on a slight oakley stage. His features were gaunt, his brow furrowed and he wore his curly moustache rather nicely. On the corners there were two paintings advertising him as the sharpest of shooters. And indeed he did seem to know a thing or two about firearms as he fancifully twirled his pistols and balanced his rifle. Or at least that’s what the crowd thought of it, Calmasis was yet to be impressed. A few tricks was all ze saw. No performance yet of actual talent.  
Relox O’ Niker, as his sign read, flung high into the air a disc which he proceeded to dot entirely with holes. The crowd cheered. He retrieved a disc half the size of the previous one and taught it the same lesson as its forerunner. The crowd was more ecstatic than ever. For his final feat for this particular crowd he requested the smallest coin any of them could offer. Someone shuffled forward and held it out. Relox shook his head and asked for one last favour of his audience. He wished for the best arm to throw it as high into the atmosphere as possible. The coin flipped through the air and Relox’s eyes narrowed in on the target. Blam!  
The crowd was silent. They could not even see it or its fate. Relox slipped off the stage, reassuring his return. Everyone watched as he walked a small distance and retrieved something from the ground. Nobody dared utter a sound in the suspense. He twirled his moustache a moment ensnaring them all the more. At last he presented between his thumb and forefinger a tiny ring. The remaining edge of what had been the coin. The crowd went absolutely wild at this. Several tossed more coins onto his stage all of which he promised not to shoot as he pocketed them. Calmasis stared in awe. What an amazing shot he was indeed. None of the students had even as much precision with their spells yet.  
“They must make a fortune off of this traveling business to afford so many guns,” Zazzerpan explained to his protégé.  
“What are those,” ze asked in early childhood innocence.  
“They‘re a new creation that have come with the technological advances. Though they‘re quite rare. I‘m told they have some connexion to wands, but I‘m not sure I believe it very much.” As they walked away Calmasis could not help but glance once more at the man. But in this glimpse, ze managed to spot the huge man at the entrance whispering into Relox’s ear and their gazes landed on Zazzerpan and hirself.  
Ze was set loose after that show and wandered around the fairgrounds. Every now and then Calmasis spotted one of hir peers. Alouette and Belrous were watching a man with dark hair in braids and a painted face perform some kind of smoke and mirrors swamp magic. Vimstrell and Selphentrine were trying their hands at a few games. Find the ball in the shuffled cups, test your strength, knock the milk bottles down and other addicting games which were mostly rigged. They were practically a gang, they set up a controlling system wherever they settled down and robbed people blind of their money in the most inconspicuous of ways. The overpriced fevered wieners that the cooks were handing out. The expensive twisted salted bread that induced thirst which was quenched by even more expensive water.  
Calmasis stopped briefly to observe the man both swallowing and blowing fire in the central tent before the ringmaster with limp hair stepped on the platform once his scene was finished. He stepped upon the platform and began barking into a cone.  
“Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen once more for joining us here today. For our next performance you will witness an act of precision… and luck.” He indicated toward a wheel that was being set up on one side of the ring. A very small member was strapped onto it. The ringmaster beckoned his partner and presented him a set of knives. Yet another worker stood by the wheel operating a crank which kept it spinning at top speed. One could barely even tell his position on the thing. To make the odds even worse, the knife thrower was now tying a blindfold to his face. It was in this moment that Calmasis cringed and became unsure if ze really wanted to witness… whatever was about to follow. Fwweee-thunk gasp! Fwweee-thunk gasp! Fwweee-thunk gasp! And so the pattern continued as it appeared that every projectile missed… or perhaps hit. The important part being that there was no blood spewing from the bound performer which was enough to gain applause and hysterical cheering from the crowd.  
With great relief, Calmasis slumped hir shoulders breaking typical good posture. However the leader assured that it had not ended yet! The human dragon made his return into the ring and lit a sizable stretch of barbed metal on fire. Turning slower and slower the wheel finally came to a stop. The partners exchanged visibility and it was now the shorter of the two who was blindfolded. Then the wheel-turner guided his staggering feet up a set of stairs above the blaze which was now just over the height of the blindfolded individual. Stretched from stairs-to-stairs was a thin beam of wood. Everyone tensed once more.  
“Eroteme will now dare the dreaded tightrope above a sea of fire,” explained the ringmaster, brushing his hair from his vision. A few onlookers of weaker constitution passed out as he took the first step. Slowly he teetered across the expanse of rope. Nobody shed a single breath as Eroteme made his way across. Once he reached the other end unburned the audience let out a collective breath which nearly extinguished the fire. Some were even sweating profusely without ever being anywhere near the licking flames. The ringmaster once more garnered their attention.  
` “Unfortunately we are missing our acrobatics act because our actress has gone missing in action.” That bitch, he muttered to himself. “However another of our members has volunteered to fill in for her. So if you would all kindly give a hand to Tesser‘s act.” There was a polite applause as a squarish middle aged (or perhaps older) took a seat. A young lady followed his lead and sat beside him.  
“I found this here girl,” he projected in a gravelly voice. “Who thinks she‘s better than me. She looks awfully familiar, but can‘t say I know her.” His eye that wasn’t stitched rolled over on the girl.  
“Tesser is, among other things, our tailor and seamstress,” the ringleader explained.  
“I‘m here to tell you right now that you can‘t beat me, little girly.” The box of a man named Tesser cracked his fingers, and then his neck, and then his elbows and lastly his shoulders. This provoked the girl to nudge away a bit. She turned to look at everyone watching, nearly blushing from all of the viewers. At which point Calmasis had been able to properly identify her. It appeared that Kanry had managed to stir up trouble with whoever Tesser was. More than likely a line taken out of context or proportion.  
Tesser had brought with him a box which upon opening yielded several colours of thread and yarn. He handed a few balls her way and claimed some for himself. He had green and yellow, she had green and red.  
“So I thought we might have ourselves a little… competition,” Kanry’s opponent admitted, outstretching his arms. “First one to knit a scarf of high quality within twenty minutes is the winner and the loser will have their defeat witnessed by all watching.” He certainly did take needlework seriously to be discussing it like this with such a young girl. Several of the audience members groaned and walked away. It was not their vision of thrilling times especially after just finishing the attempts of a daredevil.  
The competitors started casting on their first stitches and awaited the signal to proceed. A shrill fweeeeeeeet pierced the festivities as the ringleader blew a whistle and their hands began madly twitching, flicking, tossing and ticking. Or at least as quickly as one can knit with a pattern as simple as the garter stitch. Kanry had picked up a decent lead for a while until she made a slight error and had to redo a few stitches. In this time Tesser had taken the advantage and had as well calmed down. His fury caused his face to swell slightly and the crevice running his face looked as though it were ready to burst open. With his experience, speed-knitting was little trouble. She almost managed to catch up with him but regrettably the ringleader called time. Needles down. It was (un)fortunate for the leader to declare that Tesser’s scarf was the victor. There was an even politer applause at the end, which is to say hardly anyone even cared.  
Calmasis caught Kanry as she took her leave (saucily at that, she flung her scarf around her neck and strode out of the “arena.”) No words were shared until they had made enough distance, she just smiled.  
“You did a good job.” She just kept walking.  
“I didn‘t tell him that I was better, you know. I just noticed some of his wares could have been improved and showed him some of my own work.”  
“Constructive criticism, something nobody seems to be able to accept anymore.”  
“Have you seen any of the other students, Calmasis?”  
“No, I have been watching the ring for the last half hour or more.” The two turned their heads about trying to catch a friend in their eyes, but they were interrupted when they walked into two similar gentleman. Their features were very sharp and abrasive. Even their teeth seemed exceptionally pointed as they spoke.  
“Hello, children.”  
“Would you perhaps-”  
“-be interested in taking-”  
“-a journey through time?” The friends did not respond immediately as the question and strangers had come upon them very suddenly. They weren’t sure whether to apologise first or… They had been watching where they were going, right? The two carnies must have just appeared from nowhere. Nothing was said except sputtering.  
“Come, come with us and you shall-”  
“-witness our divine powers.” Before the children could even provide a response, they had each swung behind them and began gently pushing their backs toward a curtained tent. Relox was setting up targets next to it. The fire-breather and bouncer stood outside as well, talking. But each offered a passing glance as the children were whisked behind the flaps of the curtain.  
Inside it was very dark save for a glimmering green orb placed on a table. The partners zipped around and stopped behind it. With great familiarity the two smashed their heads together and stared at their customers with bulging eyes. Each pointed to the other’s eye nearest themself.  
“Gnomon was blessed with the vision of yesterday.”  
“And Silixide was blessed with the vision of tomorrow.”  
“We can see anything anytime you wish.” Calmasis couldn’t help but scoff. The entire idea seemed ridiculous.  
“Don‘t believe in us?”  
“Let us prove our prowess to you.”  
“Close your eyes.” Once more a command before response. They certainly did get right to the point. Calmasis and Kanry obliged and closed their eyes.  
“I see… I see…” Gnomon chanted while nearly pressing his eye against the crystal. “I see that you are visitors here… and have recently been evicted from your place of dwelling.”  
“No, we did not lose the castle,” Calmasis explained while peeking from between hir white lashes. Ze swatted away Silixide’s hand which was reaching for hir pocket.  
“Your most recent place of dwelling,” Gnomon corrected.  
“Well that‘s true,” Kanry confessed. “Does it tell you whether or not Japeson did it? He‘d be angry if we didn‘t at least ask considering how insistent he is that he didn‘t.”  
“Your little friend‘s already been.”  
“Really? What did he-”  
“Close your eyes,” Silixide snapped. He did not look into the ball. Though he did continue.  
“I see… that you will be going on a trip.” Very suddenly both Calmasis and Kanry were tied together with a green and yellow rope. No- scarf. They reached for their wands but found that they weren’t in their sheaths. A dark faced man with shapes on his face rose from below in front of them and held their wands tauntingly below his wide grin. Before they could make any attempt to grab at them he slipped them into a leg bag and had hopped away from them.  
Their screams too were drowned as many consecutive gunshots came from outside. Things seemed quite hopeless and got no better when Tesser continued to tie blindfolds around their faces and muzzled them. They could now feel light and the warmth of the sun on them as they were hoisted by some goliath and taken out the back of the tent. No amount of kicking managed to so much as get his attention. And at last they were thrown into a caravan. Underneath of them they could feel yet more writhing and wriggling bodies.  
“Yer goin‘ on a little adventure, kiddies,” a voice boomed from the back. Everything was locked up and latched up and ready to go. Without a moment to spare the wagon began to quickly abscond from the carnival and into the late afternoon of the hills and horizon.


	13. (Chapter Ten): Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise profusely. Allow me to explain a few things very quickly. 1. You may notice that my chapters are very rushed and condensed; this is in part me trying to give you as much of the story as I can while not demoting it to a glorified summary and including detail, as well as myself not being a very lengthy writer. This chapter is particularly snippy because of my guilt for lack of activity. 2. I feel I have been losing my "strong Rose voice" and would be overjoyed if you could offer some opinions or suggestions, pointers, what have you. Thank you very much, I hope you continue to enjoy.

For several hours the students remained piled atop each other in the rocking wagon riding down the rugged road. Several bumps caused them to lurch upward and land on one another and a few rough turns tumbled them appropriately so that the position of on top of, beneath or next to changed constantly. During the early moments of their abduction the children made their best attempts to scream or yell for help. The rags tied around their mouths grew hot from the air and nearly smothered them. Nobody heard their cries anyway, except for the teamsters who only laughed and continued their own chatter.  
After a short time had passed, their eyes had finally dilated enough to take in some of their surroundings, though there was little to see. Mostly bare wooden walls with something blocking the windows. Juggling clubs, bits of rope and other trifles were the sole occupants of the barren surfaces. Kanry wondered if… perhaps she could position herself just right… she might be able to grab one of the clubs or knock it down. With some tiring squirming she managed to sit up. With just a bit more work perhaps she could stand up and… no dice. The harsh route they were on jostled her too much to stand up for very long at all. She tossed herself down, not thinking of her position, and angrily stamped her bottom onto Vimstrell’s side.  
“Ou!”  
“Sur-oo.” Not very clear, but it was an apology all the same.  
“You runts keep it calm back there, or I‘ll have Golbruf pull it over and give you a good flogging,” the other man called from the shared driver’s seat.  
“Awful lot like a bunch‘a rats, ain‘t they,” the one entitled Golbruf offered.  
“They‘re just a litter of rugrats, is all they are. Dumb and helpless. Makes it easier on us, though.”  
In the back Martine knocked her head on the wall behind the drivers but achieved little more than a headache. One of them had to be able to help- there must have been a way! Suddenly Calmasis perked hir head up and nudged whoever it was next to hir. Gesturing by tossing hir head in his direction and craning it toward him, Calmasis suggested that Larx might be able to provide them their chance of escape. Perhaps he could use his shark tooth to saw through the rope. But there would be no such luck as Larx had managed to prop himself in a corner of the space and was deeply lost in meditation. No amount of trying to grasp his attention could pull him from his trance. Nor could anybody manage to get his necklace (nobody could manage to maintain the balance necessary to do so). There was nothing to be done but wait.  
“So, they ever find’er or is she still eludin’ us?”  
“The last I heard she was still going about her own business. The bitch never thinks of anyone but herself. We’ve got a notoriety to uphold and she ain’t carrying her weight.”  
“Don’t know that I’d say that. She’s pretty crafty, y’know. Think she just works out a sight’n we don’t know it.”  
“Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment.”  
“No, it ain’t that. Just heard talk about it. ‘Sides, she always manages to show up when she’s really needed, right?”  
“And when she’s not wanted or needed at all.”  
“Just like a woman.”  
“Amen. Anyway, I was talkin’ with the boys and they said if they do- and you know they will, you know they will- they’ll tether her to some rock or something to keep her out of trouble. Ought to teach her a lesson.”  
“Mm,” Golbruf grunted in agreement. “Don’t’cha think she’s gonna be awf’lly sore ‘bout it afterwards?”  
“I don’t give a damn if she can’t walk afterward, as long as we don’t have to be responsible for her. She should be broken in sooner or later.”  
“Ain’t that what we’ve been sayin since she showed up?” The tone in his voice was nearly bittersweet, a kind of nostalgic exasperation which had long since lost effectiveness.  
“Anything happening with the old man?”  
“What’d lead you to ask that kinda question? He ain’t budged a physical inch any more’n she’s moved a mental one. Stubborn as mules the both of ‘em. A right good pair.”  
“He said that the man would rise from his rest soon, it would be my luck I didn’t get to witness it because of some gig.”  
“’Said there had to be some pretty particular circumstances, he did. I ‘ent waitin’ much on ‘im meself. Just another mouth to yap.”  
“Yeah, but a new mouth at least. I don’t get to get around much on the road. Only company I got is your ugly mugs.”  
“Yer no prize that wants to be won at the fair either.”  
To the back of the droogs who continued on in their banter and gossiping the children were still making a sloppy attempt at escape. All plans had decayed into chaos and they worked themselves into more and more uncomfortable positions. From somewhere near the centre of the writhing mound of peers Alouette complained through muffled growls asking about who exactly was the one who kept kicking her head. Normal reasoning might have suggested it was caused by the bumpy road if it were not from a giggle which came from Belrous not far away.  
“’Ey, keep it down back there, kiddies.”  
“This ought to teach those greyhairs of yours to be more careful of who they decide to cheat. Swindling from people with our kind of power borders on suicide.”  
“We don’t take kindly to it much.”  
“Judging by how they were clothed with all of those accessories and pouches and satchels they’re either carrying a mighty penny, or homeless. Either way we get a little extra ransom or some child labour.”  
“An’ we could use it with all the totin’ an heavin’, loadin’, unloadin’. Teach you a lesson or two, anyway, that’s somethin’ children yer age don’t get taught well enough, we’d be doin’ ye a favour.”  
“What’s with these ridiculous sticks anyway, kiddos?”  
“Mm. They look like makeshift swords, those there.”  
“They’re not nearly big enough for swords, you idiot. Except for the branch, but it looks much more like a cane than it does a sword. Too wide at the top, see?”  
“Oh, I likes the looks of that little hook there. ‘Ere, give it to me for a minute, I’ve got a itch on me back I’ven’t been able to reach for hours.” After a moment the sound of ruffling fabric could be heard faintly as the goon ran the staff up and down his back to sate the irritation. This only misplaced the irritation though, to Selphentrine who screeched and began to throw herself at the sides of their prison in hopes of tipping it over. As expected, she was not heavy enough to achieve much more than a sore shoulder.  
“Hmm. I’ll tell you what, they look more like wands is what they look like.”  
“Wands? What would they need them fer?”  
“They must be playing magician,” the other man decided ignorantly. Calmasis was thrown into a boiling rage at the indignation but refused to toss about anymore.  
“Mm? Hah, sorry to break it to ye’s, but ain’t no likes of you gonna become magicians. Only people who know any of that elf voodoo mumbo gumbo is either rich or got too much free time to spend. Them rags suggest you got neither.”  
“The phrase is ‘mumbo jumbo,’ you galoot, not mumbo gumbo. And your gut’s the only thing that’s jumbo, probably from all of the gumbo.”  
“I pride meself on my appearance, I’ll have you know. It took work to articulate this kind of weighty physique.”  
“This isn’t turning into a discussion about your appearance again, I will switch the topic to anything else. Speaking of which, as I was saying, magic’s not so hoity-toity anymore. Factually speaking, some city schools offer it. Not a very popular subject though. Takes too much effort for the end benefit, I guess. Why put all of that thought into learning the makeup of a quill and all of the intricacies of how to lift it and make it write when you can just… pick it up and use it!”  
“Since when are you so knowledgeable on the finer points of education?”  
“Don’t know that ‘finer points’ is exactly what it is, but I’m the only one of us to have actually completed an academic career.”  
“Whatever you say.”  
The duo continued to run their gobs for several more hours on the journey to their headquarters. However a majority of the rest they had to say was irrelevant to the plot and plot details. Even the dozen students no longer cared to listen to their captors, what of them were still awake that is.

The sloshing of water approached and remained for several more hours as the kidnappers boarded a ferry to reach their island. During this time they remained mostly silent as they operated the vessel smoothly through the waves. The waking crashes had put each of the children to sleep before they’d even made it to the shore. Nobody lost their stomachs to seasickness due to this, which was very fortunate in their restricted confines. Much later the ferry bumped against land and jarred the students.  
At long last the doors burst open and let in faint light. Most of the bodies crammed against the door spilled out, those closer jumped out. The rest were removed by the men themselves and placed into the opening of a cave with the others, only a few feet away from the entrance. Looking more closely, some of them could make out the orange blaze of a dying sun. Soon the moons would rise and have their time. But not for more hours still. By groups of threes or fours all of the children were hauled deeper into the torch-lit caverns of the rocky cove. The entire cave smelled of salt water and another unplaceable though unmissable foul odour. Those of the children who were dragged felt beneath them slimy seaweed and moss, scraping bumpy stone, and various other deemably “icky” substances. And so the twelve disciples of the illustrious Complacency of the Learned were imprisoned in the island of the Dark Carnival.

While the journey was a short one, it was unpleasantly long. But at long last they were yielded to the mercy of columns of old rusted iron poles jammed into rocky surface. The cage’s door was swung open with a clang and each of the captives were filed inside. The men made some sort of statement about how it should hold them until they got what they needed. With hardly much else to say, they took their exeunt in a mild, echoing roar.  
The students exchanged worried glances and dispersed through the cell for some much needed personal space. Somehow the atmosphere was even darker and danker? than the tunnels leading to it. All until a tiny orange flicker illuminated the cave in a faint glow. Many heads turned looking for its source, others just tried to rest at last. The tiny embers painted the face of a woman on the back wall. Her face was unmoving as her fierce eyes flicked around from student to student, drawing them in. A puff of smoke rose around her face, slightly clouding it.  
Altrix began to worm closer to the woman to further investigate. On the other hand Selphentrine ran her mouth from behind her gag attempting to give some details on her appearance. As the girl drew nearer to their fellow inmate, the woman snuffed the light and Altrix was consumed by the dark. The observing students grew tense during the several passing moments where she did not return. At long last she did return to her friends, and unharmed. In fact her bondage had been entirely removed.  
Silently, she urged the rest to follow her lead. As each of them wriggled their way through the brooding cave the free girl whispered to them as softly as she could the words that the woman had advised her: “Don’t speak afterward. They might hear you.”  
In only a very small handful of minutes had the woman’s own hands managed to release each child from the constricting rope boas. Gathered now in the darker part of the cell, their eyes began to adjust as well. The woman’s form at last filled out in the darkness. She exuded power. In a very hushed tone, she began to speak to them.  
“I see they’ve stolen away more souls. If I stand as any example, I’d bargain you’re here on unjust terms. Kidnapped from your parents?” Not wanting to go into the details, the students absently nodded their heads.  
“They’ve held me in captivity since I was a child. And I am not about to sit back and risk the same chance on you. You don’t trust them, right? Would never in your days do a thing to help any of them?” The silent shaking of heads. “Rightfully so. Not a member in their ranks can be trusted. I know you’re all a little young for this, but we’re going to organize a little jail break. We don’t have the luxury of time or else I wouldn’t spring this to you so soon.” There was a jingling as she swooped out an ankle clad with a metallic brace. “I don’t suppose any of you kids know how to take care of this, now do you?” Everyone looked around in hopes that someone would be able to offer an aptitude in lock picking. Seeing that nobody else was versed, Alouette hesitantly stepped forward.  
“Uh… I might be able to… try,” she stammered with a hint of shame. She requested a hairpin which the woman could luckily produce. While her leg was outstretched, Calmasis managed to eye a slender, tapered rod of wood attached to the woman’s lower calf..  
“Is that your wand?” Ze pointed toward the object.  
“Oh that? Pft. Why not.”  
“Why don’t you use it to blast the chain? Or pick the lock or something?” At this she only puffed a half laugh.  
“Kid, the only thing that’s good for is holding a fire.” And slowly killing you, she guessed, but sharing that little quip wasn’t exactly going to get them anywhere. As Alouette finished her job (in a remarkable short amount of time which nearly showed a sign of professionalism) the woman stood up, gave her freed foot a slight kick and brushed off her pantsuit.  
“Well then, now that that’s out of the way,” she sighed. “It’s time to really get started. My name, by the way, is Wysteria.”


	14. (Chapter Eleven): Recess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, great to see you again everybody! I didn't abandon the story, I just got caught up on part of it. Due to time issues and (pretty much entirely) my own laziness my editor and I didn't get to straighten it out very quickly. I hope you continue to enjoy.

In remarkable time, Alouette had managed to shed Wysteria’s leg of its iron snakeskin. It took even less time for the latter to ram open the brittle metal door. The woman was a marvel as she even managed to snatch it up before it could sound alarum to the kidnappers. In the end she was left with no more than a sore shoulder.  
“I doubt they were very worried about kids breaking their way out. They must have not thought I’d stoop to asking children for help. They probably also doubted any of you would conspire with a stranger or have the knowhow to pick a lock. As usual, we have been severely underestimated.” With that, she gave a soft nudge on Alouette’s shoulder and took the lead of the murder that they so resembled in the dank caves in their dark robes.  
Wysteria warned the children to mind their voices and not to speak unless necessary. Naturally, she herself was exempt from this, being an adult and completely in control of her volume. And so she passed the time by telling her followers stories of her captors. Calmasis soon found her words to be distant and garbled whispings from afar as ze was transfixed on a dimly lit crevice which was hardly noticeable on a glance. Wysteria’s anecdotes mixed into the surrounding darkness as they too became nothingness. Silence. Heavy silence pushing in on hir ears for so long now that they began to buzz. Calmasis’ eyes flicked to the side to see that hir classmates were no longer there and had in fact not stop moving on with their guide.  
Overcome with the whimsical curiosity of children, Calmasis inched forward to the tiny entrance and hesitantly slid in. It was only a brief walk until it opened up to a room flushed with green. Was it moss? Chlorophyll, lighting, chemical imbalances in the rocks, majykk, magic even? Whatever it was, it certainly made the room welcoming. That as well as the lack of evil carnies present in it.  
And then it made itself apparent. An imposing pillar of gold was placed on one of the walls. A grand sarcophagus whose harrowing skeletal face held menacing, fiery rubies in its eye sockets. Its cheeks too were adorned, and nearly took away some of the horror, had they not had a malignancy of their own. At the top of the towering case’s crown were two cobras sprouting from its forehead. While this discovery was disconcerting to the child, it also further piqued hir curiosity.  
Less effort than was thought was required to open the door, although it seemed as though there were an invisible second party aiding hir. Yet the only other occupant in the room also held residence from within the golden casket. A corpse which did not look like it had probably moved in ages. It was the body of a tiny yet ancient person in a white suit. The cadaver seemed to extremely misfit its coffin, the difference in size was absolutely absurd, actually. Not that any natural person would fill it properly, but certainly not the body of an indistinguishable person no larger than Calmasis hirself.  
Suddenly, the body’s wrinkled skin began to move. Shock ran through the child’s veins like lightning, immobilizing hir from fleeing. A hand outstretched and reached outward for hir shoulder. Ze stiffened in fear as though the body had transferred its rigor mortis, though this seemed to aid the figure in standing as Calmasis took the role of its cane. All of hir silvery follicles began to stand on end, fluffing out in a manner of a frightened feline.  
Without even opening its eyes, the body left its sarcophagus and hobbled over to a stone with a patch of moss on the top. Blindly, it- or rather they- gestured for Calmasis to sit across from them on a similar seat. Life finally filling the young body, it too began to move after a time of stillness. And so the two sat freshly across each other, the suited body stretching and testing their muscles at last. When at last they had become reacquainted with their body, the person began to speak. A surprisingly healthy voice which came on the accent of a southern gentleman accompanied with a distinct hollowness.  
“Calmasis,” he said. Frosty fingers tickled hir ears; how did he know hir name? “There’s little that I don’t know,” the man answered. “Pardon me, I just saw you were a trifle shocked, so I thought to offer some peace of mind.” Silently, Calmasis shakily gestured toward hir eye, confused as the man had still yet to open his own eyes. But still he laughed as though they were wide open. “Child, you don’t need eyes to see. ‘Least I don’t.” He grinned a large plated smile which glinted with several gold dentures. His next action caused his company’s lungs to be suddenly filled with the humid air, resulting in coughing in sputtering.  
The living corpse opened his eyelids to reveal nothing but blackness which rivaled the intensity of the void ze’d gazed into. Even so little of this baffling darkness caused pressure on Calmasis’ eyes, yet ze could not avert hir gaze. The eyeless abysses were consuming, a near vortex. But still, he continued to talk.  
“Oh. Ah see I’ve got your undivided attention. The name’s Horloge, Doc Horloge if you really care that much about the formalities. But I haven’t scarcely done much doctoring in a good while.” With what little strength remained, Calmasis gripped hir stone until hir knuckled turned white. “I was awakened when you got here, mighty thankful. Now, you’re probably wondering to yourself ‘why?’ Aw, let’s skip the charades, of course you are! Near omniscience’s got a purpose. I’m drawn to… special children. Children who got great potential. And you may have the greatest potential of any of them. It was actually you I was waiting for in that box. I wanted to meet you for myself. Actually, I had to meet you for myself, you could say. You’re destined for great things, Calmasis! Things nobody’s ever dreamed about. You can be the most powerful being in existence. You will be the most powerful. To rule all and be loathed by none. You are destined to achieve greatness. But you already see your own potential, don’t you? Yes, that’s why you work so hard to overcome your disabilities. It is through that persistent struggling, that perpetual suffering that you will pave your path of greatness. But that is a road which has long been trailed out by those before you. Creating the pattern for your path to take. But also do not be confused. It is destined for you to take your rise to power. But it is an ascension which can only be acquired through this suffering. But it is still yours to take. Whatever needs to happen… will happen. You grasping it? But that is your fate. You could have ultimate power. Or… you could die. That’s why I have something of a proposition for you one day. But oh no, not today! You ought to catch up with your little friends before you miss out on all the fun. See you real soon.”  
Water dripped from an above stalactite in a monotonous tune as Wysteria stood in front of a stone table and reclaimed her confiscated goods. She whipped her floppy hat onto her curls and flopped her whip around her neck. Wysteria then made the attempt to sort out all of the children’s wands.  
“The big one’s mine- the staff.”  
“Mine’s short. No, shorter.”  
“It has a really big curve, kind of like a cresent.”  
“That’s not mine, it’s too thin.”  
“Half of these look exactly the same, how can you even tell the difference?”  
“It’s very special- really important. No it’s darker.”  
“That one’s Martine’s.”  
“No, mine is softer than that one.” During this squabbling, Calmasis had finally wandered back into their numbers after having finished talking with Horloge.  
“Mine is the one made of Sambucus wood,” ze whispered. Wysteria’s mouth went crooked at this, as if trying to say “do you expect me to know which one that is?” Calmasis calmly indicated the ornate pale white one and lovingly retrieved hir wand. With hir new addition to the group, ze managed to help sort everyone back to their destined wand. Everyone carefully flicked and waved theirs, becoming reacquainted with their mates. Wysteria watched over the children as they swished their channelers. The quality of bewilderment and confusion on her face was so refined that it might have found itself as the main platter at a high restaurant. This was soon chased away by the senses instructing her that danger was coming.


	15. (Chapter Twelve): Abscond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow it's short wow i'm awful

There was a stirring in the caves, a restlessness resounding on the stones. Voices were rumbling faintly in the distance in an urgent nature. Wysteria corralled the children with her arms and began to push them onward.  
“Hurry, they’re coming,” she said in a low voice to them. Their pace never exceeded a fast walk so as to avoid making too much noise. But because of this pace, it did not take very long for the carnies to catch their tails. Louder were the voices and the footsteps, and so too were the students’ hearts. There was no point in staying quiet any longer.  
“What are we going to do?” they worried.  
“Miss Wysteria, do something.” There was a particular student whose sullen mood was only inspired by these bleak events. One who saw an opportunity for redemption. Without warning, Japeson tore himself from the herd of children, wand in hand. His attempt at heroism was swayed a bit when Wysteria snatched his hand just in time, but Japeson managed to carry out his plan. With his free hand, and great difficulty dealing with his twisted position, Japeson fired various spells behind him at his onrushing malefactors.  
It would seem that Japeson’s preoccupation with tormenting small animals came in handy for once. The adults were far too cumbersome to cast a levitation spell on, but he did manage to trip them occasionally. Tumbling seemed to be too much of a common activity to properly trip up the carnies, in fact they seemed to use it to their advantage. The bulky, awkward men somehow managed to perform somersaults or flips in response to this.  
All of the other students continued their mad dash to the exit of the caverns, too scared to even consider using majykk to help them. For that is the outcome of fear and one’s fight or flight instincts. A few cutting jinxes managed to make contact, but these men were far too thick-skinned to be bothered my Japeson’s level of lacerations. There was no exit in sight. Japeson had one last idea. Sparks began to fizzle out of Japeson’s wand tip. Soon they began to sputter outward toward the aggressors.  
The humidity of the cave was rather high, making the air quite moist. The clothes of the pursuing carnivillains, however, were relatively dry. This having been said, they caught as a perfect tinder for Japeson’s sparks. The two were no match for the blazing plasmatic plumes devouring their clothing, and so they instantly dropped to the ground, which was fortunate for them; most people when panicked by the presence of fire on their person forget the “stop drop and roll” mantra instilled in our minds like earworms in primary school and instead run around madly.  
“Ben!” one of them bellowed.  
“Oy, Big Ben! Hurry yer ass out here!” Suddenly there was a slight rumbling in the rock of the cave. Some students craned their necks to look behind them, the rest didn’t care. Only Japeson received a front row view of the monster charging toward them. He was a goliath of a man, he was hunched over uncomfortably to avoid bumping his head into the ceiling of the cavern. With nowhere else to put his arms, the huge sss dangled in front of his body. He resembled a raging gorilla chasing after them. Japeson could hear his grunting clearer the closer he came. Several spells and jinxes were flung at him by Japeson’s majykkal “slingshot,” but none of them so much as made him flinch. Not even the fire was capable of deterring him. All he could do in response was squeal and move himself closer to Wysteria. At last there was a light indicating the outside coming through the spears resembling teeth at the entrance. Wysteria brought everyone to the edge of the mouth and shooed them on.  
“Go, go! I’ll be fine.” A few of them tried to remain by her side, but she pushed them away. Everyone ran outside, unsure what to do. “Take a boat and leave,” she called from inside the cave. The children could not see the giant brute barreling toward her any longer. They were now all boarding a small boat and clumsily shoving off the shore. It took some work, but Martine managed to arrange a working method to get the boat moving. She found that she was actually quite at home on the water.

The lights were dimmer than usual in the island cave and cracking sounds echoed through the empty stone tunnels. The cracks were accompanied by different groans. Receiving and delivering. Wysteria was no longer wearing her floppy hat and the carnies were lined up in front of her. The mood in the air was undoubtedly a tense one. Crack! Crack! Crack! Agh, ooh, aah!  
“What the hell were you thinking?” A voice rang out in exasperation. “Did you think you were being clever? Did you think you were being cute?” Crack! “Answer me, you godsdamned shits!”  
“W-we’re sorry, ma’am… We was- ah!” Wysteria flailed her whip again, striking the one speaking. “We was just doin’ as we was told!” The woman took several more slings of her whip in anger and proceeded to take a long drag from her cigarette to soothe her furious nerves.  
“And who told you that that would be a good idea? Hmm?”  
“He did.” Wysteria scoffed. There was only one person that could possibly be.  
“One of them homeless men with the kids had one a our clocks, they stole it. Please under-hoo!” She took an even longer draw, and blew the smoke directly into one of her coworker’s faces. He coughed, clearly unable to breathe.  
“And you thought that you irresponsible assholes could handle the consequences of rustling up the Complacency of the Learned? They’d blow through here in an instant to get those kids back.”  
“How’d you know it was them?”  
“You think I didn’t pick up anything before you dragged me back to this cesspool? Who else could they have been. Next time, you bastards need to think your fucking plans through. You’re lucky I was able to get them out of here and save you all a case of exploding skulls.” Just a few more angry whips and Wysteria’s business was done. She gave each of them kicks in various places, and extinguished her cigarette by rubbing it deeply into the last one’s skin.  
“Now get your asses back to work and try not to fuck it up again.” With that, Wysteria was gone.

It was exceptionally fortunate for the dozen youngsters that Martine found an innate maritime prowess during their voyage. Their luck came perhaps eightfold of that when they came ashore to the very one they had departed from. After some directions and a few short hours later, the kids had miraculously found their way back to Regidom.


End file.
